


To Capture a Hero's Heart

by Uthizaar



Series: The Other Roy Harper [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ARGUS, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Almost Kiss, Arrowcave, Complicated Relationships, Crossover, Depression, Government Agencies, Gun Violence, Implied Relationships, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealousy, Love is complicated, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mirakuru, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), SUPER SLOW BUILD, Secrets, Spies & Secret Agents, Spoilers, Team Arrow, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Villains, code names, forceful oliver, shy roy, suicide squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 100,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uthizaar/pseuds/Uthizaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of 'In Love with the Wrong Queen' and 'The Bridge Between Worlds,' we re-join Roy and Oliver as they seek to find a way to be together while simultaneously trying to stay apart. Following closely with the T.V series' episodes, with possible divergence for new/original villains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Roy Harper stared at the screen, the images flicking by him as he scrolled down the page, the words washing over his mind as he read them quietly to himself, his lips moving as his hands twisted and clenched restlessly in his lap. He reached for the mouse and closed the window, reverting back to the previous search box. Before he could type in another query, he heard soft footsteps on the staircase behind him. He stopped moving, tensing up as he heard Oliver come down the stairs. He knew it was the archer because of the way he tended to lean a bit heavier on one foot than the other, Roy had learned to recognise the subtle differences between the others; Felicity tended to wear high heels that clicked against the metal stairs, sometimes she wore flats which weren’t as noisy but still had that loud clap as she walked faster than Oliver or Diggle. John was easy to recognise, he walked carefully but had a distinctive ring to each step.

Roy swallowed quietly, he had thought Oliver would be with Thea tonight, they had agreed to share a loft together just last week. Roy had helped him load the last of his stuff into the van just twenty minutes before, why had he come back? Roy didn’t react as Oliver came closer to him, just carefully closed the windows he had been looking at even as Oliver came to a stop behind him.

 

Oliver studied Roy with interest, as the younger man refused to look at him, even though he must be aware of his presence. Roy still had his well-fitting black t-shirt on from when they had been moving the boxes, his black hair had been cut short again, stubbly at the sides reaching up to the soft puffiness of his fringe. Oliver resisted the urge to pat him on the head, just to see what it felt like, of course, nothing more. He tried to ignore the way his eyes were drawn to Roy’s smooth neck and the way his jaw clenched and made his cheeks hollow out. Instead Oliver stopped behind him and rested his hands on the back of the chair and felt a sudden thrill run down his spine as his fingers brushed against the firmness of Roy’s back through the fabric of his t-shirt.

Roy startled as he felt Oliver’s breath against his neck and then closer as the older man murmured in his ear.

‘What are you looking at Roy?’

‘It’s not porn!’ He replied automatically as he felt himself blush. ‘Uh, I mean, I’m just looking up something.’

Oliver chuckled gently as he leaned over Roy to look at the screen, glancing down as he felt Roy’s head brush against his midriff. ‘And what might that be? Because I told you, killing those cops wasn’t your fault.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Roy replied sullenly, not quite believing Oliver, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as the older man leaned over and against him. He felt Oliver’s hands move up from the back of the chair to grasp his shoulders. Not painfully, but in a more than friendly way. Any other time he might have enjoyed the gesture, but he just shrugged Oliver off and stood up: he didn’t have time for any more of Oliver’s mixed signals and games. ‘I thought you were going to be with Thea?’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver shrugged and stood back, his hands falling back to his sides. ‘Felicity called me from the station, she got the results of our mystery archer’s arrows.’

‘Oh, you mean the ones shaped like hearts?’

‘Yeah, those.’ Oliver replied as he watched Roy walk over to his suit, ‘I figured you’d want to come with me, Arsenal.’

Roy nodded, acknowledging his new name as he took down his bow and pulled the costume down from its rack. ‘Send the details and I’ll meet you there.’

‘What? Don’t you want to travel together?’

‘Uh, it’s ok, it takes longer for me to get ready, I’ll just hold you up.’

‘It’s all the buckles and straps, I could help you!’ Oliver offered as Roy shook his head furiously.

‘No! Uh, no, it’s ok Oliver, I know how to put it on.’

Oliver stared at him and came closer until he was standing a few inches apart from Roy, licking his lips unconsciously as he looked into the man’s green eyes. He reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, pausing as he saw Roy flinch.

‘What did I do, Roy? Why are you afraid of me?’

‘I’m not, I just, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to touch me.’ He was quivering as Oliver placed his hand on his shoulder, grasping him firmly as if to pull him into a hug. 

‘Uh, am I interrupting something?’ 

Roy turned to see Felicity at the foot of the stairs and sighed gratefully. ‘No, I was just leaving.’ He pushed Oliver’s hand off and grabbed the rest of his suit, going into one of the side-rooms to change. He could hear Oliver making up some half-baked excuse for why they were standing so close together, apparently Roy now had a recurring shoulder injury that Oliver was tenderly massaging. He rolled his eyes even as he heard Felicity’s disbelieving ‘Uh, huh.’ She began talking about the results after a brief pause where she must have stared at Oliver. Roy could hear her speak as he slid into the lower half of the costume, still as tight as they were when he had first put it on, pulling the straps tighter and buckling his weapons to the thighs and shins. He quickly stripped off his t-shirt, back turned to the door and pulled on the undershirt, then the jacket part, zipping it up to his neck, tying the laces up with one hand as he held the cords in his teeth. Finally dressed, he smeared black camo paint around his eyes and pulled on the mask, as he reached back for his hood. It escaped his reach and he felt it being pulled up for him. He grabbed the edge and ripped it from the person’s hands.

‘Oh!’ It was Felicity. Roy scowled, angry at himself and turned to face her, settling the hood just how he liked.

‘Sorry, I thought you were…’ He trailed off averting his eyes as she looked at him, taken aback.

‘Oliver?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I thought you two had worked everything out?’ She followed him out as he reached for his bow, fastening the quiver to his back. ‘You know, about Sarah?’

‘Yeah, it’s fine.’

‘Did he do something to you?’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘Well it’s just…’

‘Just?’ He arched a brow as she struggled to put the words correctly and failed.

‘You like when he touches you!’

‘Uh…’

‘Oh, god, no. That didn’t come out right!’ She put her hand to her mouth and her eyes went wide as Roy leaned in close, his face angry.

‘I. Don’t. Like. Oliver.’ He spoke slowly emphasising every word, ‘I know that’s what you all think, but I don’t. He’s too old for me.’ He brushed off her questioning stare and turned away quickly before she could see his face heating up.

‘Oh.’ 

 

Oliver stalked through the empty building, his mind half on finding the archer, Cupid they had decided to call her, half on replaying what had happened earlier. Sure, he had told Roy that they couldn’t be together, that everything was too complicated right now, the same old spiel he had given to Laurel and Felicity, and now to Roy. But the younger archer had always been so insistent, so flirtatious, so intent on getting Oliver to notice him, that Roy pushing him away was so surprising and confusing. Maybe he had finally accepted that they weren’t going to be together, not, at least, any time soon. Maybe he had finally done what Oliver wanted him to do: move on, get over him. 

A burst of static in his ear interrupted his thoughts and Oliver spun slowly on the spot his bow raised as he checked for hostiles. Nothing. 

‘Arsenal? Arsenal!’ He whispered into the mike, feeling a little silly at first, but then becoming serious as he didn’t get a reply.

‘Felicity?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Are coms down?’

‘No, everything looks normal from here, all devices functioning at 100%.’

‘Huh, ok. Ro…uh, Arsenal, must be down. Have Diggle circle in from the rear.’ Felicity responded as Oliver pulled back a plastic sheet and continued to walk through the empty corridors.

 

Roy dropped to a crouch detecting movement ahead, his fingers stringing an arrow on the bow and raising it halfway up. He frowned in concentration, sure he had seen something ahead of him. But moving quietly closer it disappeared. He jumped up and rolled to the side as the tell-tale sound of an arrow came spiralling out of the shadows behind him. He dived to cover behind a barrel and returned fire, hearing his arrow clatter harmlessly against the concrete wall. Roy heard a high pitched laugh before feeling a vicious thud against his head, he fell on the ground, rolling onto his stomach, feeling himself fall into darkness. Then he groaned in pain as he was kicked onto his back, his vision blurry as he struggled to grab one of his batons. There was a wetness against his hair, and the floor swam before him as he tried to stand. He could see a dark figure above him, swathes of red here and there, the sharpness of her arrow pressed hard against the fabric of his suit as it pricked at his chest. There was buzzing static in his ear as he tried to speak: no response from Oliver or Felicity.

He could hear words above him, unclear, muffled, and he blinked again, trying to clear his head. She pulled back his hood to reveal his face and lifted up the mask to get a better view of him, clucking her lips. He knew it was a woman, from the flawlessly painted face to the long dark hair to the overtly sexualised nature of her outfit. He reached for his reserve com button but she kicked it out of his hand and crushed it under one heel, before grinning at him and delivering a swift punch to the temple. He was out instantly.

 

Oliver heard the echoing laughter from across the building and followed the sounds of breaking wood into an open room, flowers surrounded him, some in buckets, some in pots, others cut and scattered around the unmoving body of…Roy! Oliver made as if to rush over to him but stopped as he saw a figure emerge from the far exit. Oliver glanced down at Roy, his mask was back in place, his hood pulled back enough to see his face. He was out cold, his bow had been placed beside him in a mockery of a ritual funeral, the flowers framing his head as his chest slowly rose and fell. Oliver raised his weapon and pointed it at the stranger even as she lounged against the door-frame.

‘What did you do to him?’ He demanded as she smiled at him, her lighting up as Oliver spoke.

‘You pretty friend will live…maybe!’ She flashed a grin at him, teeth emerging white as snow as she approached him, her figure exposed in the shaft of light Roy was lying in. ‘But, you really should have come alone,’ she glanced down at him and back up to Oliver, ‘He’s nice, but you, hehehe, you are perfect.’

Oliver pulled back the string and held the arrow in place as she pouted at him.

‘Aww come on now, I thought you liked me better than that!’ She pouted and moved closer to him, stepping on Roy’s stomach as she did.

‘Get away from him!’ Oliver warned her. She stopped, sighed and turned away.

‘Fine! Take him then!’ She turned and ran as Oliver jumped over Roy and released his arrow. A mocking laugh echoed back at him, ‘See ya later, lover boy!’ Oliver frowned and made as if to chase her, before stopping as Roy groaned in pain behind him. Oliver swore but turned away from the exit and went to crouch by Roy’s side. 

 

‘Hey, Roy?’ Oliver whispered as he pulled him into a sitting position. ‘You ok?’

‘Uh, yeah I guess…’ He reached back to pull down his hood feeling the dried blood caked on his hair, ‘uh, maybe not.’

‘Let me see,’ Oliver reached back as Roy slumped down, his fingers brushing gently around the wound. ‘Hmm, can you walk or do you want me to carry you?’

‘What? No. Of course I can walk!’ Roy pushed Oliver’s hands away and scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bow. He stood a little unsteadily as Oliver held out his hands to help him, but the archer ignored him and limped back the way they came. 

Oliver turned to look the opposite way, wondering to himself whether he should have left Roy to go after Cupid. A few months ago he would’ve done just that, confident that catching the villain was more important than checking up on fallen allies. But it was obvious now that his feelings for Roy were getting in the way of protecting the city, exactly the situation he had hoped to avoid by not getting involved with Roy. Oliver sighed, hearing the younger man yelp in pain as he banged into a door; the blow to the back of the head was worse than he thought. 

Roy’s vision swam as he struggled to keep walking, far too stubborn to let Oliver help him. He didn’t want Oliver’s help any more than he wanted Oliver to be near him, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to let Oliver take care of him. It was so frustrating, every time he thought they were getting closer, Oliver backed off with the same excuse of not wanting to get him into trouble or danger or interfere with Oliver’s solitary role as sole protector of Starling City. Roy was getting fed up of it, sure he had said he’d wait for Oliver, but he was pretty sure that the Arrow wasn’t going to give up this life until it killed him. He sometimes thought of just letting Oliver go and finding someone else, someone normal, but there was something about the older man, some force that he couldn’t resist. Roy just had to figure out a way past his barrier, a way to prove that they could be together and keep fighting the bad guys.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Hold still, Roy!’

He kept moving his head, wincing as Felicity dabbed at his head wound.

‘I can’t believe she got the drop on me.’

‘I know, but please, stop moving.’

Roy sighed and gritted his teeth as he felt her finish up and attach a plaster to his scalp. 

‘Ok, done, and no stitches!’ He nodded and stood up, reaching for his bow. He caught Oliver’s eye and dropped it again. Sighing Roy walked over to him, arms crossed loosely in front of him. 

‘What?’

‘I can’t let you go out with that injury, Roy.’

‘What? Oliver, I’m fine. Besides you let Felicity patch me up, it’s not as if I need to go to the ER.’

‘You’re not going, no one is. Wait here, I think I have an idea about our new archer. But you have to stay here.’ Oliver stared pointedly at him.

Roy glared and suddenly moved closer, causing the older man to take a step backwards, Roy leaned in to whisper out of earshot of the others, ‘Seriously, Oliver? You can’t keep protecting me-’

‘I’m not. If I was, do you think I’d have let you come at all, or keep you here as my sidekick?’

‘So, what? You saying you don’t care?’

‘No, don’t put words in my mouth. I just…’ Oliver stopped talking, unsure how to placate the angry young man standing in front of him, Roy’s scowl furrowing his brow. 

‘Whatever, go on, get outta here.’

Oliver blinked as Roy pushed past him, dismissing him from his own secret hideout. He turned to look as Roy set up the sparing dummy and turned away again as Felicity gave him a wry glance. He opened his mouth to say something, but what was the point? Roy always took everything he said the wrong way. Oliver left him and went back to get the rest of his equipment.

Roy watched Oliver leave out of the corner of his eye, feeling heat rise up his spine. He couldn’t explain it, but whenever they talked about how they felt, no, how Oliver felt, it always seemed to go sour between them. Oliver would say the wrong thing, or he’d obscure his feelings behind a wall of stubbornness, or Roy would make it too obvious and Oliver would just bluster his way out of talking. Roy finished securing the dummy to the base plate and began stretching his muscles. He took up a fighting stance, knees bent, hands curled lightly into fists and held out in front of him. He gritted his teeth and pictured his defeat at the hands of Cupid, letting the anger flow around him and he began his training ritual.

 

Oliver sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed as he concentrated on his breathing. He knew he had seen Cupid somewhere before, but couldn’t quite remember where or when. He let his mind wander back before the five years he had lost to the time when he was the arrogant, rich, womanising young man he no longer recognised. Although unable to remember all of his romantic conquests, he could see a vast array of faces and names staring back at him as he visualised them. But no, Cupid was not among them, and he hadn’t really dated much after he returned, the Arrow didn’t have the time or space for that kind of thing, as Oliver had repeatedly told those who came close to him. So if it wasn’t someone he had dated, then… Oliver’s eyes snapped open as a memory flooded to the surface. He had met her before, but more than merely meeting her, he had saved her life.   
It had been during the initial hours of the siege of Starling by Slade’s thugs. They were on their way back to Roy with the cure and he had spotted a woman about to be bludgeoned to death by a towering brute of a man. He remembered stopping the van, calmly walking out, notching an explosive arrow to his bow and releasing it, watching as it detonated around the man, causing him to stumble blindly and get in the path of an eighteen wheeler on the opposite side of the road. Screeching brakes echoed around them as Oliver cast his eye over the woman, aside from her shaken state she seemed fine. Oliver had turned away quickly, eager to get the cure to Roy, to save him, if they could. Oliver had remembered her eyes, dark orbs gleaming with some hidden quality he couldn’t detect. But why was she doing this, why now? He cast his mind back to their earlier conversation. She had been jealous, he could hear it in her voice, see it in the way she curled her lips and stood between him and Roy. 

 

When he got back to the Arrowcave, he found Roy in the same position as when he had left, his hands a blur as he pounded the sparing dummy furiously, making it rock back and forth on its steel base. Oliver raised a brow at Diggle who was watching nearby. The man shrugged and muttered, ‘Been like that for over an hour.’ Oliver nodded and moved nearer, close enough to see the beads of sweat on Roy’s forehead, the tight black vest he wore was soaked and clung to the contours of his body. Oliver could see the skin of his fists had bruised and broken, but still Roy battered the arms of the dummy, until he glanced to one side and saw Oliver looking at him. He snarled out the final punch and stopped, letting his arms fall to his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He just stared at Oliver.

‘What?’ He snapped at the older man. Oliver looked surprised and tossed him a towel. Roy grabbed it and wiped the sweat from his face. ‘Do you need something Oliver, or am I still on lockdown?’

‘Roy, come on, don’t be like that.’ Oliver steps closer even as Roy glares at him, ‘please, I need you to come.’

‘Uh…’

Oliver tilted his head and then blanched, ‘Um, I meant, I need you to come with me. I have a way to catch her, stop her from killing anyone else.’

Roy couldn’t help but grin at Oliver’s awkward embarrassment and felt his resentment dissipate. ‘Ok, fine. What is it?’ Roy followed Oliver back into the main room and stood to one side as Oliver began to explain the plan.

 

‘This is a stupid plan.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing, Oliver.’ Roy muttered as he glanced around carefully. There was no one around, only the mist rising off the docks, flooding the area with a strange light. ‘Why are we waiting around here?’ He hissed at Oliver’s back, the archer standing away from him and watching the nearby cargo crates.

‘She’ll come.’ He replied calmly.

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘She’s obsessed with me.’

‘Huh?’

‘The way she spoke, the way she talked about me, the way she looked at me, well I’ve seen it before.’

Roy glared at Oliver’s back even as he felt his cheeks heat, ‘That was different. Besides, I never killed people to get your attention!’

‘No, I guess not.’ He frowned, a shadow darted from box to box, ‘She’s here. You ready?’

‘Of course,’ Roy stood up and jumped down from their hiding place on a nearby gantry. He held his bow loosely in one hand and looked around carefully. Oliver had been sure she’d be here, although Roy was still confused about how he knew that. Maybe it was because one of the Arrow’s old targets had been hiding out nearby, Roy shrugged to himself as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He spun slowly in a circle and stopped when he saw her approach from a boxcar above him. He held his ground and lowered the bow. She dropped down in front of him, and smirked.

‘Back for more? Sorry cutie, but I'm only interested in the real hero.’

‘I have a message for you.’ 

‘Oh?’

‘The Arrow will meet you. Here.’ He thrust out a scrap of paper and the woman looked at him, eyes narrowed, before snatching it. She quickly scanned the address and looked back at Roy, head tilted.

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why would he meet me?’

Roy faked a grin, ‘You have an hour, and then he’ll be gone. Go if you want, don't if you don't. I'm sure he'll find someone else; he's a handsome guy, after all.’ She frowned at him again, but Roy could see the hungry expression on her face, that same disturbing desire that he had seen in his own eyes many times. Thinking about Oliver now, he gritted his teeth and turned away from Cupid and disappeared into the shadows.

 

Oliver had watched the exchange from above and breathed a sigh of relief as Roy contacted him. ‘It’s done. Good luck, Oliver.’ There was a pause and then silence. Oliver pursed his lips as he imagined Roy’s conflicted face. He could hear the disapproval in his voice, but Oliver knew that stopping Cupid had to come before anything else. Even if that meant damaging his already fragile relationship with Roy. He stood up as Diggle brought around the van. There was a burst of static in his ears, before Roy spoke again, ‘I did what you asked, do you need me for anything else?’

‘Uh, no, not really.’

‘Huh.’

‘Well, I could use more backup.’

‘Diggle’s got you covered though, right?’

‘Yeah…Is something wrong, Roy?’

‘I don’t feel well.’ Oliver frowned, sure Roy got hit pretty bad, but there was something else in the man’s voice that suggested he was lying. Oliver sighed and nodded to himself. 

‘Sure, Roy. You can go home.’

‘Uh, no, I’ll just head back to base. If you need me later.’

‘Ok.’ Oliver gestured for Diggle to start driving and frowned again. ‘Whatever, let’s go.’

 

Roy sat by himself at the bar in Verdant, carefully swishing the amber liquid around his glass. He had gone down to the Arrowcave and changed, but he couldn’t stay there and suffer through Felicity’s glances at him every half a minute. Oliver was meeting Cupid now, and even though Roy knew he’d be subduing her, or fighting her or, if necessary, killing her, he couldn’t get the image of the two of them kissing each other out of his mind. He could see them wrapped together, her hands snaking around Oliver’s firm, muscular body, his strong arms gripping her tightly against his body. Their faces pressed together, lips locked and tongues fighting. Because even though she was crazy, Roy couldn't stop thinking that maybe Oliver liked her, maybe Oliver was willing to get with her, a one-time thing. And then he felt ashamed for thinking about Oliver like that. Roy tipped the last of his drink down his throat and closed his eyes as he felt it burn down his chest. He opened his eyes to see Thea staring at him from behind the bar.

‘What?’

‘I know you’re not working tonight, but you might want to slow down.’

‘Why bother?’ He looked at her and then let his gaze slide back to looking at the glass in front of him. ‘Same again.’

‘Ok.’ She shook her head as she prepared the drink, glancing up at him now and again. There was something off about Roy tonight, like he wasn’t even there. She slid the drink over to him and waited. After thirty seconds he still hadn’t raised his head from where it was buried in his arms. ‘Roy?’

He lifted his head and nodded, silently thanking her, dropping the cash on the counter in front of him. Thea tried to look into his eyes but he kept avoiding her, surely she must have imagined the tears she saw there?

Roy wiped his eyes quickly with the back of his hands and bit his lip, the alcohol dulling his senses, not noticing even when he drew blood. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to remember anything else tonight; not Oliver, not Cupid, not even being Arsenal. He downed the measure in one gulp and felt the world spin away from him.

 

Oliver looked around him as he returned to the Arrowcave. Felicity had run out, something about Palmer needing her at the office. Diggle was reloading his gun, but Roy was nowhere to be seen. His suit was hanging in its normal place, but he was gone. Oliver frowned, taking out his phone as John approached.

‘Tough night, Oliver.’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver replied as he scrolled down his list of contacts, ‘You heading home?’

‘Yeah, Lyla’s back from Bialya, finally. She’s making dinner.’ He looked at Oliver meaningfully.

‘Uh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, John.’

‘There’ll be enough for everyone. Bring Roy too.’

‘I’ll see.’

‘Ok, Oliver. Good night.’

Oliver nodded as Diggle left, muttering to himself, ‘Bring Roy? Have to find him first.’ He picked his phone back up and called the younger man, waiting as the beeps sounded in his ear. Then a click as he was connected. The sound of the deep, throbbing bass was the first thing he heard, then the slurred sounds of Roy's voice echoed down the phone.

‘Yessh?’

‘Roy? It’s Oliver. Where are you?’

‘Wha…Olv…Oliv…Ollie?’ Oliver blinked as he heard Roy struggle to pronounce his name, before going to his nickname and giggling uncontrollably. 

‘Uh, where are you Roy?’ Concern edged into his voice, and he grabbed the keys of the van before quickly climbing the stairs to the club. ‘Roy? Come on, answer me.’

‘Hehehe, back so soon, eh?’ His voice was light before it turned dark and gloomy in a heartbeat, ‘Thought you’d be staying the night, get a lil more…in before dawnssh…’

‘Uh, what?’ Oliver paused at the magnetically sealed door and placed his ear against the metal, the same pumping music flowing through both ears. ‘Roy? Are you at Verdant? Roy?’ 

There was silence on the other end as Oliver opened the door and walked into a wall of sound. He glanced down to see that they were still connected. There was a scream of static as he winced and then he heard a familiar voice speaking to him.

‘Ollie? Is that you?’

‘Yeah, you with Roy, Thea?’ He screwed a finger into his ear in order to block out the sound and manoeuvred his way around the throngs of sweaty dancers and drunk patrons. ‘Where are you guys?’

‘Follow the bar around to the staff exits.’

‘Got it.’ Oliver hung up and walked quickly towards the neon sign.

 

Roy looked up unsteadily, sitting as he was on the floor by the door. He felt Thea kneel beside him, telling him to stand up, but he just couldn’t. His legs had felt like jelly and then he just leant against the wall, sliding down until all he saw was a forest of legs and shoes, his eyes not focusing on anything. And then a pair of shoes he knew very well was standing in front of him. Roy tilted his head back and let his eyes wander up the jeans and snug fitting jumper until they rested on Oliver’s face. He sighed and dropped his eyes again. He could hear words above him, something about not that much to drink, and having a head wound, and then he heard Thea give out to Oliver and then the older man was down on his haunches in front of him. Roy looked at him unsteadily and murmured his name.

‘Olver…’

Oliver sucked in a quick breath, disturbed by this change in Roy, it was far too similar to the time the mirakuru had taken over and driven him insane. Except this time it was self-inflicted. 

Roy felt Oliver grasp him under each arm and pull him upright. He staggered unsteadily and Oliver pulled him closer, one arm around his waist, the other used to push past everyone else. The next few minutes were fractured images of strobe lights and darkness, Roy trying to say something, but his tongue felt thick and unresponsive. Then only darkness. 

Oliver pulled Roy away from Thea, making up some excuse about his car being around back. Thankfully she suddenly had her hands full with an irate customer and Oliver pushed and eventually picked up and carried Roy away from the club, walking carefully down the stairs into the Arrowcave. 

 

Roy gasped awake as cold water was doused over him, his clothes soaked and sticking to him as he blinked rapidly in the bright lights. ‘Ugh…’ He moaned as he turned around to see Oliver standing ready with another bucket, this one filled with ice water. ‘No! No, I’m fine.’

His words weren’t quite back to normal, but he only slurred a little as Oliver lowered the bucket and pushed a cup towards him.

‘What is it?’

‘Hangover cure, should work for being drunk too.’

‘Ugh, how long was I out for?’ Roy took hold of the hot liquid, and pulled a face as he tasted the first mouthful. ‘Yuck! What’s in this?’

‘Herbs, mostly. You just blacked out, literally five minutes ago.’

‘Oh.’ Roy closed his eyes and drank the rest of the cup in one long gulp. ‘You should’ve left me there.’

‘And, what? Let you stumble home drunk? Or get picked up by some stranger? I don’t think so.’ Roy glanced at him, seeing the concern in his eyes mixing with the obvious anger on his face. ‘Besides you got hit pretty hard on the head, you shouldn’t be drinking.’

Roy grumbled but didn’t reply. He got up and wandered over to his suit, digging out a change of clothes from his bag. Oliver watched as he struggled to pull his clothes off, his fingers fumbling on his belt buckle. He sighed before walking over to Roy.

‘No, I got this, Olver.’ Roy mumbled as he finally freed himself and pulled his pants down. Oliver stared at his tight briefs before remembering himself and turning away. ‘So listen, um, Diggle’s…uh, Lyla has made dinner, a late dinner.’

‘Oh, it’s ok, Oliver, I’ll find my own way home.’

‘What? No, Roy, you’re coming with me.’

‘Why?’

‘Do I need a reason, besides that I need to keep an eye on you?’

Roy sighed and tugged on Oliver’s sleeve, ‘I’m dressed now. And I guess not.’

‘Ok then, I’ll drive, of course.’

Roy rolled his eyes and followed Oliver out.

 

Roy looked sideways at Oliver as they came to a stop outside the door. The older man stood slightly in front of him as he reached forward to knock. Roy couldn’t help but trail his eyes over Oliver’s form, the remnants of the alcohol in his system making him a little more obvious than normal, his senses heightened as he stood close enough to Oliver to smell his cologne. He closed his eyes and just breathed in, hearing Oliver speak as Diggle opened the door. Roy opened his eyes to see the somewhat surprised Diggle, his brows raised when Oliver proffered a bottle of wine. He accepted it and gestured for them to come in. Oliver made to move forward, but Roy, having smelt the delicious aroma of the food all but pushed him out of the way to get in the door first. Oliver stifled a grin as he glanced up at Diggle’s smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writers bloc on this one, and I'm still not quite satisfied with it. :(


	3. Chapter 3

Roy stared straight ahead, jaw clenched tight, an ache gripping his heart in its iron hard grasp. His stomach rolled and tightened, but it had nothing to do with fear or love or tension, it just echoed the lost feeling in his eyes. He sat in the center of the Arrowcave, alone. Oliver had asked, no, told, him to stay behind. He didn’t want him to go with them to Central City. Sure the ‘official’ reason he told Roy in front of the others that there was no room with all their equipment. 

‘And,’ Oliver added as an afterthought, ‘Starling needs someone to look after it when we’re gone.’ 

Not even Oliver’s rare smile could stop the sinking feeling in Roy’s stomach. He just grunted at them and stared deadpan until they sighed awkwardly and shuffled out, Oliver last to leave, an odd expression on his face, not quite regret. Roy listened to the clang of the door and the revving of the engines until they were gone.

 

Now he was alone, the second night here. Last night he had wandered down, sitting in front of the computer, wondering if they needed his limited tech support. They didn’t, of course, they had Felicity. He waited for an hour, until he heard the bass pounding upstairs and wandered up to watch the new DJ flirt awkwardly with Thea. It had been a quiet night and he nursed his solitude with more alcohol than he could remember; blacking out somewhere between leaving the club and waking up in his front hall. Now he just sat in the semi-darkness, wondering how he had got to this point in his life. It was early yet and the club wasn’t going to be opening until later. Making up with Thea had been hard, but not as awkward as he had thought it would be. She seemed to understand, or maybe he had explained himself better the second time. But she just shrugged at him and offered him a job, a promotion over his previous job, and he took it gladly; it wasn’t as if Oliver was paying him to be Arsenal. But something did seem off about her, something had changed while she was away, as if her core had been shattered and remade stronger. She didn’t flinch when one of the bar tenders cut himself on broken glass. Even Roy took a step back, but she just moved in and plucked the thick shard out of his hand and bound the wound. And then there were the lies. None of the others had noticed it, but Roy could tell she was lying, he had done it for long enough himself. 

 

His phone began to jingle softly and he took it out to look at the screen. Great, Oliver was calling. He stared at it for a while until it stopped ringing. He was tired, tired of the game they were playing, had been playing since that evening on the pier. Sure, he said he’d wait, and he still thought Oliver was crazy handsome either in the Arrow suit or out of it. But he just kept putting up barriers. Maybe if Oliver had just told him no, that it was never going to happen, Roy could’ve left it alone, waiting out the storm of emotion, but no, Oliver had admitted his somewhat ambiguous feelings for Roy. And he had kissed him, that one time, and it had felt real, but… Roy sighed, burying his face in his hands. Why did he do this to himself? He had found himself running that half forgotten conversation over and over again in his mind these last few weeks. Ever since he realised he had made a call when he was hammered that one night. He wondered if he could have done something had he been there, saved him maybe, or would he have been killed too? He didn’t like thinking about Kyle, didn’t like thinking about the mistakes he had made, didn’t want to feel that guilt that sparked every time he thought about being with him. 

 

Roy glanced over to the monitor, hearing a sudden urgent beeping. He wheeled himself closer to have a look at the open window. It was some sort of message service, not email exactly, but more like a notice board. He looked at the pulsing icon and curiosity got the better of him and he dragged the curser over, hovering for a second before clicking on it. The message popped open, the tag line catching his eye immediately: Re the Flaming Star. Huh, sounded familiar, he scanned the rest of the message. It was addressed to Oliver from an unnamed sender, wishing him the best and to ‘leave the dead where they lie.’ Roy whispered the words to himself as he frowned, the memory rushing back to him. The Flaming Star were the terrorist group who targeted ARGUS, who killed Kyle. But why was Oliver interested in them? Why did he want to make contact with them? Because that’s what the tone of the message indicated, and the sender wasn’t too keen to set up a meeting. 

His phone rang out suddenly and he jumped, quickly clicking away from the messages, answering before he looked down to see Oliver's number. 

‘Yeah?’

‘Roy? It’s, uh, it’s Oliver.’ He sounded strange, ‘Hey, um, so Roy…’ 

‘What’s wrong, Oliver?’ 

‘I ah…how are things there?’ 

‘Fine, quiet. Nothing’s happened.’ 

Roy paused as Oliver didn’t speak, but he could almost hear the unspoken words in the man’s silence. Roy paced around the room, the phone held to one ear as his other hand cupped his elbow. ‘Do you need me?’ 

Oliver hesitated a moment before replying, ‘Yeah Roy, I need you.’

Roy smiled to himself, ‘I’m on my way.’


	4. Chapter 4

Leaving Roy behind had been difficult, try as he might Oliver couldn’t get the image of the younger man's eyes out of his mind. Roy had looked so despondent, so upset, Oliver felt guilty every time he thought about it. And even though Roy tried to hide it with his clenched jaw and accusing stare, Oliver could still see the vulnerable part of him; that fear of being left alone, abandoned again, and Oliver kicked himself for not coming up with a better excuse. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave Roy behind exactly, it was just, he needed some space. Plus it was going to be difficult enough with Felicity and Barry staring at each other like the star-crossed lovers they were, without Roy there to look at him mournfully whenever they were alone. 

Oliver tapped the screen of his phone thoughtfully. They were close to Central City now and he was debating whether or not to call Roy. He didn’t want to seem like he was babying the young hero, but he didn’t want to let the way they left each other to sit and fester. He sighed to himself and made the call, frowning as it went straight to voice mail. Well, almost, he thought he heard the dial tone for a second before it shut off. Guess he was still angry. Oliver glanced up as a gargle of voices was heard over their police scanner. He gestured to Felicity to change the frequency and hone in on the correct channel. There was a burst of static before a voice spoke clearly, ‘Requesting backup at my location, corner of 5th and 42nd Street, suspect on the move, carrying, uh, boomerangs?’ The three of them glanced at each other and Oliver patted Diggle on the shoulder as Felicity accessed her GPS suite from her tablet. Oliver climbed back into the rear of the van and checked his equipment again, before he had to fight, all thoughts of Roy pushed to the back of his mind.

‘Hold on, John, there’s something else coming in on the line.’ Felicity held the earphones to one side of her head and concentrated as the police officer on the other end repeated his last. ‘They’ve picked up a ping from stolen money.’

‘So? The other guy is more important.’ Oliver looked up at her as she typed furiously on her tablet. ‘Felicity?’

‘Oh no.’ She twisted in her seat, ‘Oliver, the people at the bank robbery tried to kill each other while the robber stole half a million. As in, all of the people; murderous rage for five minutes and then nothing.’

Oliver sighed, ‘Damn, ok, is the Flash on the way?’

‘Uh, who?’ Diggle glanced between them, but they ignored him as Felicity nodded cautiously.

‘I guess so. But they might need you. Plus we’re close, do we go?’

‘Yeah. You guys go to the base, and leave my bike here. I’ll met you there.’ Oliver pulled up his hood as Diggle screeched to a halt and he flung the back doors open, grapple already loaded. Oliver released the arrow and glanced up as he heard the hook digging into the bricks. He climbed quickly, stopping by an open window as he heard the sounds of SWAT boots and a challenge to the suspect. He notched another arrow to his bow and climbed onto the ledge as a shotgun discharged. He brought the bow up in time to see the Flash burn by, officers thrown out of his path and the detective grabbed around the middle and pushed to the floor. Just as the SWAT officer paused to reload, Oliver released the arrow and watched it sail gracefully across the room, exploding into coils around the surprised man. Barry and the detective looked up in surprise, before the hero’s face spilt into a grin as Oliver nodded at him.

‘Nice mask.’

Oliver jumped deftly across the room and up through a sky light, onto the roof. He looked down to see his bike had been left across the street. He turned as the Flash sped up the sky light, stopping before him. 

‘Hey, Arrow! It’s been too long.’

Oliver nodded and checked his watch before looking Barry up and down, ‘You look good. But we shouldn’t talk here. Do you know the Mills & Buster cement factory outside of town?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Meet us there.’ Oliver glanced back at him, ‘In about twenty minutes.’ Barry grinned and watched him abseil off the building. He tapped his foot against the roof and then darted down to check on Joe. Then after about fifteen minutes of waiting around, he just grinned to himself and sped off through the streets. Oliver was pretty easy to find and he adjusted his speed to arrive just ahead of the archer. 

 

Oliver watches as Barry brags to Felicity and Diggle looks at him likes he’s not even real. Barry was peppy, excited, a little too much so for Oliver’s liking; he was enjoying being the Flash, enjoying being able to share it with other people. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous of Barry and Felicity, or just irritated by the Flash persona. Maybe it had more to do with the fact that he’d been doing this for so long that it had become almost mundane for him. He glanced off to the side, the rain was really coming down now. He looked back to them as Barry gestured at him. 

‘You know Oliver, I didn’t need you back there. I had it covered.’

Oliver raised a disbelieving brow and snorted, ‘Yeah, sure, Barry.’

‘Well, I, wait, what are you guys doing here, anyway?’

Felicity reached into her handbag and pulled out a silvery boomerang, handing it to Barry as she explained, ‘Working a case, serial murderer, attacks people with these.’

Barry ran his fingers gently across the blade, his eyes lit up like a kid, Oliver stared at him as he flicked the blade hearing a metallic ting as he did.

‘Oh, man! Awesome!’

Oliver tilted his head and Barry quickly put it down, ‘Sorry.’

‘Anyway,’ Felicity continued, looking between them, ‘there was some trace evidence on the blade side that led back to Central City. A bit of a long shot, but it’s all we got.’

‘Actually we were heading to a suspicious sighting when Felicity heard about the raid. So, you know, I could save your ass.’

‘Told ya I had it covered!’

‘Right.’ Oliver rolled his eyes as Barry grinned at him. 

‘Hey, guys, we should team up! I’ll help you get your boomerang man and you can help me get the Metahuman!’

‘The what?’ Oliver asked, as Felicity nodded eagerly.

‘Metahuman, that’s what we call them. This guy can make people super aggressive and then there was this one that could summon fog, and-‘

‘Ok, ok. I get it.’ Oliver sighed, ‘But no, we’ll handle our business and go home, I’ve left Roy in charge and he’s not really ready for it yet.’

Felicity frowned at him, although he wasn’t sure which part of the sentence she was taking issue with. But she was obviously disappointed.

Barry shrugged his shoulders, ‘Who’s Roy? Come on, Oliver, it’ll be fun; two heroes like us and a city full of crime!’

Oliver hesitated before answering, ‘Uh, Roy…Roy’s my, um, I guess sidekick?’

‘Oh cool!’

‘And no, we are not teaming up.’

‘Is this about your secret identity?’ Felicity asked as she put the boomerang back in her handbag. Oliver sighed, but didn’t answer, ‘Ok. Well they already know me, so I’ll go.’

Oliver began to say something but Barry darted over and picked her up carefully. ‘Allow me!’

Oliver stood by Diggle and they watched the two of them disappear into a yellow blur. Diggle gasped and pointed, ‘That’s not normal! Does that not freak you out?’

Oliver shook his head, ‘Come on. We better check in on Roy, and then we’ll meet up with Felicity.’ Diggle frowned and hummed as he followed Oliver inside the abandoned factory. Oliver reached for his phone, hoping there would be a missed call or even just a text from Roy, but no joy. ‘I guess he’s still upset.’ Oliver muttered to himself, tapping on Roy’s number and listening to it ring out, before being cut off. ‘Damn, come on, Roy!’

‘No luck?’

‘No, he…must be busy.’

‘Uh huh.’ Oliver avoided Diggle’s gaze and walked over to refill his quiver. He was already regretting his decision not to bring Roy, if only for the extra support; the younger man would never agree to working with the Flash. Although…Barry was pretty hot, so maybe Roy would consider it. Oliver blinked, did he just think that? No, no he just noticed that Barry might be thought of as attractive to someone gay, like Roy. ‘Yeah, that’s all. Nothing else.’ He murmured aloud, feeling an unwelcome heat spread across his cheeks.

 

Oliver is sitting in the café across from Felicity, avoiding small talk as she messes with her phone. He notices the occasional look in his direction, the hidden whispers, and tries to ignore it. Barry enters and nods at them. Oliver gestures to the empty seat beside them.

‘Hey guys, what’s up?’

‘The man you’re after, his name is Roy G Bivolo.’ 

Barry looked at Oliver and tilted his head, ‘Uh, thanks? How did you know that?’

‘Oh, the Arrow has his ways,’ Oliver dropped his voice a little and Barry looked up into his eyes, seeing for a second that cold fire of retribution that Joe and Dr Wells had spoken about last night. He didn’t want to admit it, but a chill went up his spine as Oliver added, ‘you don’t want to know.’

‘Uh. He’s still alive right?’

‘Oh, he’ll live.’ Oliver gave him a mirthless grin and Barry frowned at him. 

‘Uh, good. Good. So um, this is you not helping?’

‘It’s just a name. Besides your lab is running the boomerang, so we’ll call it even.’

‘Oh, ok.’ Barry got up and made for the counter, ‘Hey, you guys want anything?’

Oliver shook his head and Felicity gestured for another latte. They avoided each other’s eyes and waited for Barry to return with a slightly breathless Iris, delivering Felicity her drink and a bemused Oliver a coffee. ‘…and for Oliver a regular coffee, black.’

‘Um, thanks?’

She sighed and gazed at him as Felicity and Barry exchanged looks, ‘Ahhh, I made you a fresh pot…’

‘Oh, um, great. Thank you.’

She beamed at him and felt Barry tugging her from behind, ‘Oh, Barry? Can I talk to you for a second?’

Oliver watched with a slight smirk on his face as Barry gestured at him and Iris glared at him. Felicity buried her smile in her mug as Oliver looked down. ‘Still have it!’ He thought to himself. The fact that an image of Roy giving one of his rare true grins came into his mind almost immediately threw him off guard, but he just suppressed his thoughts and started drinking. ‘Good coffee!’

Felicity stared at him, ‘So?’

‘No. I said we’re not helping him. Besides, he doesn’t need us. He just thinks he does.’ Felicity just kept on staring at him, occasionally taking a sip of her coffee. ‘You’re not going to stop are you?’ Oliver sighed and dropped his gaze before nodding at her, ‘Fine.’

Barry looked over to see Oliver approaching and quickly said goodbye to Iris. ‘Hey.’

‘Yes.’

‘Uh?’

‘We’ll help you catch the bad guy.’

‘The Metahuman.’

Oliver paused a moment and stared at Barry’s honest and eager face, ‘No. I’m not calling them that.’

‘Oh.’ Barry’s face fell, but then brightened as Oliver continued on.

‘If we’re going to do this, we’ll need training. Plus, I’m gonna need my team.’

‘Don’t you…Oh right, Roy?’

‘Yeah. He’s been hard to get a hold of, but come at dusk, I’ll be ready.’ Oliver turned back to Felicity and nodded. They left as Barry grinned and turned back to continue his conversation with Iris.

 

It was late in the afternoon, not yet dark. Oliver stood outside the ruined factory building, running the training exercises though his mind, unsure if he was being fair to Barry or just working out his anger at Roy. Twice he had called the younger man, only to be shut down almost immediately. He ran a hand through his short hair and tried again. This time it rang out for a few seconds before the call was answered. Oliver’s heart skipped a few beats until he heard Roy’s gravelly ‘Yeah?’

‘Roy? It’s, uh, it’s Oliver.’ He stopped, unsure if the younger man was going to hang up on him. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t quite get the words out. Instead he just stumbled over the next few, ‘Hey, um, so Roy…’ 

‘What’s wrong, Oliver?’ 

‘I ah…how are things there?’ Oliver winced at his tone, wishing he could bite back the words; he sounded too harsh, too judgemental. But Roy replied quickly, his voice devoid of emotion.

‘Fine, quiet. Nothing’s happened.’ 

Oliver stayed silent, just listening to Roy’s breathing on the other end, wishing he could say the words running through his mind, but failing to get them out. He sighed to himself and tried to speak, but Roy’s next words were exactly what he needed to hear.

‘Do you need me?’ 

Oliver hesitated a moment before replying, ‘Yeah Roy, I need you.’

‘I’m on my way.’

At those words, Oliver smiled to himself and let Roy hang up.

 

Two hours later, Oliver looked up from his bow to the roar of a motorbike, a smile playing around his lips as the dark red bike drifted into the wasteland in front of the building. The sun hadn’t quite set and there was still a good hour of day light left for them to train. Oliver held himself back as Roy dismounted from the bike, watching him pull the helmet off and ruffle his hair upright again. He nodded at Oliver and turned to look at the incoming yellow blur. 

Roy set his helmet on the seat and reached down for his bow and quiver, already dressed in his armour. He realised at a police checkpoint for drunken drivers that that was a mistake. It took some convincing, but the handsome young deputy seemed to believe he was on his way to a Myths & Monsters Convention in Central City. Or maybe the fact that they had flirted outrageously with each other was the reason. Roy didn’t care either way, but he saw Oliver’s brows rise when he greeted him.

‘Roy, glad you’re here. In full armour too?’

‘Need to be ready, Oliver.’ He turned as Barry walked over to them, ‘So, who’s this?’

‘Barry, this Roy. Roy, Barry.’

They nodded at each other and Roy moved to stand slightly behind Oliver’s right shoulder as Barry looked sheepishly between them.

‘I guess I’m late. Sorry, Oliver.’

The older man sighed and shook his head, ‘Even with super-speed, huh? Ok, you ready to train?’

‘Sure, what are we doing?’

‘Well, Roy and I make a pretty good team, we know each other well enough to predict our moves, most of the time.’ He turned to look at Roy who shrugged and continued to check Barry out, as he listened to Oliver. He was good looking, a little older than himself, maybe mid-twenties, slim and lean, rather than muscular like Oliver. But those eyes, damn, Roy felt himself harden and looked away even as Barry noticed his gaze, frowning at the sudden heat blooming across Roy’s face.

‘Hey! Barry, pay attention. Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to stand over there and you’re going to come at me…’

Roy zoned out Oliver’s words and instead focused on the two of them lining up, watching the way both men moved. He stifled a laugh as Oliver berated Barry for not focusing on his environments, for recklessly engaging villains around civilians. Barry rolled his eyes at the back of Oliver’s head and glanced at Roy as he passed. Roy raised a brow and gave him a small smile, ‘Welcome to my world,’ he half whispered and Barry grinned back at him.

Barry was fast, everything about him was lightning quick, whereas Oliver moved carefully, aware of his surroundings. Roy watched as Oliver gestured to Barry and then gasped as he flashed across the wasteland in the blink of an eye. He slid to a halt in front of Oliver, giving him a toothy grin.

‘So?’

‘You’re fast. Good.’ He picked up his bow, notching an arrow to the string. ‘Now this time, run back at me and I’m going to shoot you.’

Barry laughed, ‘Yeah, good luck!’

Roy watched with interest as Oliver raised the bow, glancing back to see Barry zip to the far end of the lot. ‘Hmm, I wonder.’ He murmured to himself before Barry burned by him again, wind rushing past him. Roy blinked as Barry snatched the arrow from the air half a second after it launched. He then winced as the two hidden crossbows fired into Barry’s back. ‘That’s gotta hurt!’

‘You shot me!’

‘Yup, pay attention to your surroundings, next time.’ Oliver said as he past, ripping both arrows out of Barry’s back. Roy suppressed a grin as Oliver walked up beside him. ‘Good to have you here, Roy.’ He spoke softly and Roy looked up into Oliver’s hard to read eyes, almost believing the words were true.

‘Yeah, you want to catch me up?’

‘Sure, come on.’ He gestured to the open doorway and Roy followed him through, looking back once to see the yellow fire as Barry sped away.

 

‘Really? Once wasn’t enough?’ Roy says jokingly to Barry as he arrived in his yellow blur. The man pushed past him and Roy shrugged, ‘Guess not. Hey Oliver; he’s here!’

Oliver was standing with his back to Barry, bow in one hand, arrows in the other. The early morning air was cold and the clouds whipped by quickly overhead. Roy watched from his perch on one of the broken windows as Barry walked over to Oliver. There was something different about him, some repressed anger in his movements, the way he opened with such an obvious challenge. Roy wasn’t listening at first, trying to figure out what the feeling reminded him of. 

‘What? You’ve never made a mistake?’ 

Barry’s voice was angry, hurt and Roy slid off the sill and walked over to where Oliver stood looking at Barry pace in front of them. Oliver glanced in his direction before turning to face Barry, ‘Yeah, I’ve made mistakes, plenty of them. But I’ve been doing this, living like this, for almost eight years. And the only reason I’m still alive is because of training, and getting better, and getting smarter. It doesn’t matter that you have super-speed, or fast healing, or whatever else you can do, you’re not learning from your mistakes. You’re not going to be able to defeat your enemies if they keep outsmarting you, if they use your own arrogance against you.’ 

Barry snorted at him and barked a short laugh, ‘Hah! I get it now, you’re jealous.’

Oliver looked surprised and Roy’s face hardened as he moved forward. Oliver held out a hand to block him, but Barry kept speaking, ‘Hehe, yeah, someone like you; rich, handsome, can have any girl he wants, you’re probably not used to feeling this emotion. So it may take some time for you to get it.’ 

Oliver glanced quickly to one side, barely hearing the growl from Roy as he pushed his hand aside and stood in front of Oliver. Roy pushed Barry back with the palms of his hands, anger evident on his face as he glared up at the slightly taller man. Oliver reached out to pull him back.

‘Back the fuck off! You don’t know what you’re talking about!’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ He half turned away, ‘but you know Oliver, no matter how hard you train, how much you weight lift, not matter how many times you do that stupid ladder, you’ll never be as fast as me.’

Oliver tightened his grasp on Roy’s shoulder as he felt the archer lunge forward, ‘Fuck you, Barry! Get outta here! You don’t deserve our help.’ Roy growled at him, struggling to get out of Oliver’s firm grip.

Barry looked him up and down and curled his lip, ‘Yeah, I don’t need it.’ He disappeared in a flash of yellow light and Oliver finally released Roy.

‘What the hell, Oliver? I could’ve taken him!’

‘Why? He’s just…’

‘A jerk? An asshole? Enlighten me. Please.’ 

Oliver looked at Roy’s defiant face and sighed, ‘I don’t know, something’s up. Maybe we should check in with Felicity.’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘Hey? Thanks Roy.’ Oliver squeezed his shoulder before moving past him.

 

Roy looked up from his bike as Oliver rushed down the stairs towards his own bike. ‘Hey, are we-‘

‘Felicity has him on CCTV, he’s been infected with Bivolo’s glowing eyes. He’s angry, very, very angry.’ He adds, seeing Roy’s confused face. ‘Let’s go, make sure you have tranquilizers.’

‘Yeah, I got some.’ Roy looked down at his arrow set, not telling Oliver about the extra explosive bolts he just added. The two archers finish suiting up and they roar into the night, Roy following Oliver as Felicity relayed directions to them.

 

Roy stopped as Oliver held up a hand, gesturing to the street beyond them. They were in an alley; Roy took his helmet off and pulled his hood up as Oliver took careful aim. Roy watched the archer release the arrow, the coils of reinforced rope winding themselves around Barry’s angry form. He notched an arrow of his own and raised it even as Barry turned to face them. 

‘You need to calm down!’ Oliver shouted out as Roy lined his sights up.

‘I have him,’ he whispered to Oliver. ‘Fire?’

A barking laugh from up ahead caused him to glance over at Oliver, but he swore as the Flash pulled on the corded rope and fired himself and Oliver across the street. Roy dropped his bow down and sprinted after them, swapping out the tranquillizer for two explosive arrows. He armed them quickly even as the Flash turned to face him, Oliver groaning on the ground behind him. Roy released the arrows and Barry ducked, that smug smile on his face as he did so. 

‘Missed me.’

‘No.’ Oliver grunted out and Roy rolled behind a dumpster. A large explosion rocked the street and the Flash was flung from his feet onto the ground. Roy sprung back up as Oliver grabbed his bow and notched another arrow. Barry struggled onto his feet again and hissed as both archers released their toxic arrows into him. He fell back to his knees and gasped, as Oliver moved in. But Roy quickly notched another arrow to his string, armour piercing and deadly, Oliver glanced over to him, about to speak as Barry stood up, vibrating rapidly to expunge the poison from his body. Oliver stopped moving, ‘Uh oh.’

Roy raised his bow but was too late as the Flash moved quickly against him, slamming his body into a nearby wall, before chasing after Oliver who attempted to grapple out of the way. Roy looked up as Barry focused on Oliver, grinding his teeth together, reaching for the special arrow. An arrow he had received a few weeks after Kyle’s death in an unmarked package save for the words, ‘For when you need it, you’ll know.’ He smoothly placed the arrow on the bow and waited for the right moment as Oliver tried to fight the Flash hand to hand, succeeding in fighting only shadows as Barry twisted away with ease. He gritted his jaw tight as he fumbled a little, fear for Oliver unbalancing his focus. But then Oliver grasped the upper hand, an uppercut connecting with the surprised speedster’s face. He backed off and snarled at him before attacking in a blur of arms and legs. Roy gasped as Oliver was flung to the ground, his ribs obviously aching. The release of the crossbows could be heard as Barry swung around to catch the arrows in mid-flight, a victorious grin on his face that soon disappeared as Roy heeded Oliver’s nod and they both flung darts at him. Barry let out a grunt of pain as the darts ripped through his legs, forcing him down on his knees. This was it. Roy moved to stand over the defeated Flash, his bow string held all the way back, the arrow’s gleaming silver head not wavering as he prepared to fire. 

Oliver climbed to his feet, hand clutched to his ribs as Barry pulled out the darts, the archer reached out a hand to tell Roy to stand down but the younger man seemingly ignored him and ruthlessly kicked Barry’s injured legs, forcing him to remain on his knees. From behind Oliver the screech of wheels on the wet street heralded the arrival of the Star Labs van and Dr Wells activated the special light system as Oliver grabbed Barry and pushed Roy away, earning him a hurt glare from the archer. The lights fired up and Roy blinked, turning away as Barry was bombarded with the colours. After a few seconds he gasped and struggled free from Oliver. 

‘I’m ok. I’m ok.’

‘Good.’ Oliver nodded at Dr Wells through the windshield and turned to deal with Roy. He was standing a little way off. ‘Hey! What the hell was that?’

‘What was what?’ He answered sullenly.

‘Roy, you were going to shoot him.’ It wasn’t a question and Oliver frowned at him when he just shrugged.

‘You said he healed fast, so why would it matter?’

‘That’s not the point-‘

‘The things he said, Oliver, about you and us…it wasn’t right.’

‘No, it wasn’t. But it wasn’t him. Just the…metahuman.’

‘Heyyy, you said it!’ Barry limped over to them and Oliver gave Roy the ‘We’ll talk about it later’ look, and offered his arm to support Barry. 

Roy watched them carefully, jealousy in his eyes, anger in his stomach and fists clenched tight. ‘You like him more than me don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep the jealous thoughts from his mind no more than he could remove the fire in his eyes when Barry turned to find him staring. His brows raised at the intensity of the glare he was getting from Oliver’s sidekick, but he forgot it quickly as he felt his joints quickly snap back together with a pop. Roy followed them both back until they came to the van. Oliver gestured for him to get in while he and Barry returned to Star Labs, together. Roy ground his teeth even harder as he watched Barry pick up Oliver with barely any effort and speed off, a green and yellow streak across the city streets.

 

Roy found himself under the curious gaze of Dr Wells as they drove back towards Star Labs.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, I’m just wondering if you would have taken the shot.’

Roy shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing, ‘Maybe, if he had tried to hurt the Arrow, sure.’

‘Your devotion is admirable. I too would do almost anything to protect Barry Allen. Probably why I disapprove of Oliver Queen so much. As the Arrow, I mean.’

Roy nodded, unsurprised, ‘Yeah.’

‘That’s a curious arrow you have there, may I see it?’ Dr Wells pointed at the one still locked on his bow. Roy paused a moment, looking into his eyes, before nodding and carefully handing it over. 

‘Hmm, interesting. Where did you get this?’ Dr Wells ran his fingers carefully over the length of the shaft, before gently touching the razor sharp edges of the bladed head.

‘Uh, a friend.’

‘Indeed. This is a very special arrow, you know?’ Roy stayed silent, wanting to snatch it back, but restraining himself. ‘I’ve seen some of the others in the series.’

‘Others?’

‘Oh yes, there are about ten of them. The Dragon Killers, they’re called. Very special. He must have been some…friend to give you this.’ Dr Wells grinned at him before offering the arrow back to Roy. ‘I wouldn’t squander it on just anyone, you’ll know when you need it.’

Roy’s eyes shot back to him but Dr Wells had turned back to face the road and the archer mulled his words, rolling the arrow back and forth between his fingers as he did.

 

‘Damn, Roy, can you be any less obvious?’ Felicity nudged him as they stood in front of the counter at the coffee shop. Iris was busy filling out their order and Roy hung his head, giving up watching Barry and Oliver chat behind him.

‘Gah.’ Roy buries his head in his hands, ‘better make it a double.’

‘It’s only espresso.’ Iris says, with a raised brow in Felicity’s direction.

‘Just double it!’

Oliver looks over at Iris and Roy, Felicity slipping off to the bathroom, ‘You need to let her go.’ He turns back to Barry and sighs, ‘Guys like us don’t get the girl.’ Or the guy, he added silently.


	5. Chapter 5

Oliver stood outside the silent darkened house, his bow in one hand, the other pressed against his hidden mike, hearing Roy’s sharps breaths as he ran into position on the other side of the building. Oliver glanced at the boarded up door and frowned, something felt off, but he heard Roy clear his throat.

‘You in position?’

‘Yeah. Go, Oliver.’

Roy licked his lips nervously as he too looked at the seemingly abandoned house. But it wasn’t what was in front of him that that drew his concern. It felt as though someone was watching him, but a quick survey of the street confirmed it was empty; just the same van parked across the road as had been there earlier, when he had scoped it out. He watched as Diggle pulled up just close enough to allow them a quick escape. He heard the command from Oliver and grasped his bow tightly, reaching back for an arrow.

Oliver crouched down and carefully lifted a plank from the doorway. He heard Roy and Diggle whispering to each other, but ignored them as he peered inside. Nothing. Wait! There was a pulsing red light in front of him, winking on and off, and there, a few feet further in near the front door, another.

‘This is the place, it’s rigged to blow. Looks like trip wires everywhere. I’m not sure I can get in this way.’

Roy sighed to himself, he just knew it was going to a finicky operation. ‘Ok, Oliver, you ready?’

‘Of course. Go.’

Roy reached for the explosive arrow as Oliver mirrored his actions. They pulled back and released the deadly charges in sync and Oliver stood back, ducking behind a nearby dumpster as the arrows detonated with a crump, the fireball blasting out either end, as glass shattered from the force. Roy turned away as the flames bathed his face in scarlet fire, the smoke clearing away in the wind. Oliver radioed for him to move in. He turned quickly to see Diggle gesturing wildly, apparently Oliver had neglected to tell him about that part of the plan.

‘Come on Roy, I know it’s the Glades, but the police will be here soon!’

Roy nodded and walked slowly into the house, meeting up with Oliver near the back. He followed the archer’s lead and swept into the adjacent rooms, as Oliver cast a wry eye at the ruined house.

Meanwhile, Diggle had his ear on the police scanner while he watched Roy walk through the doorway. There was a burst of static and Diggle sat up, reaching over to change the frequency. But it was no good, every channel was white noise; he reached up to his ear piece, hearing only the same static. Just as he was about to get out and run over to the house, four black SUVs roared onto the quiet street. He reached for his gun and stopped as each vehicle slid to a stop by the house, the doors opening to spill out three full armed response teams. Diggle stared as the heavily armed men ran up the driveway; one team with tactical shields guarding their access, another running around the back, while the final group advanced carefully towards the fire charred entrance. Roy and Oliver were on their own.

 

Oliver finished searching the bed rooms and pointed Roy in the direction of the kitchen. Oliver frowned as he saw the steam wafting up from an unfinished dinner.

‘Damn it! We just missed him.’

Roy swore under his breath as he followed Oliver back, freezing when he heard the thump of boots on the wooden floorboards. He came out with Oliver, their bows armed and pointed and the unexpected sight of a team of men in black combat armour and guns aiming at them. Roy half dropped his bow as the flicker of laser dots drifted across his torso. He glanced over to see Oliver’s bow still aimed at the intruders. He looked them over again; no identifying badges, no SWAT lettering across their Kevlar body armour, just black on black; he caught a glimpse of an embossed symbol on the shoulder of one of the men before they replaced their guns with bright flashlights. Roy ducked his head to the side and nudged Oliver with his elbow.

‘Drop your guns!’ Oliver growled out, his voice modulator kicking in, as Roy glanced nervously between them, no way they’d be able to get more than a shot off before being mowed down.

‘Arrow?’ He murmured quietly, the words unfamiliar in his mouth.

‘You’re not SCPD.’

‘Yeah, but unless I missed really casual Friday, neither are you,’ the officer drawled back at him. 

Oliver ground his teeth and frowned, ‘ARGUS.’ The words slipped out in a whisper and Roy let his bow go slack as he glanced over at Oliver. ARGUS, he didn’t expect that, but looking at them now, they certainly looked the part. Roy raised a brow as Oliver reluctantly lowered his bow, wondering why the older man hesitated; weren’t ARGUS the good guys? 

The man in charge reached for his walkie-talkie and let his gun fall to his side, even as the other agents kept their guns pointed at Roy and Oliver. ‘Pull out, target isn’t here.’ He stood examining them as his team slowly pulled back one by one. ‘This is an ARGUS matter, leave it alone.’

‘The man who was killed; he’s ARGUS?’ Oliver asked and the agent inclined his head before repeating his warning. The archer watched him go in silence and then glanced down at Roy, seeing the faraway look in the younger man’s eyes. ‘Roy?’

‘Huh? Oh sorry, Oliver, was thinking about…something else.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘So, uh, we’re not gonna just leave it, right?’

Oliver grinned, ‘Not a chance in hell. Come on, we better go see what happened to Diggle.’

Roy dutifully followed Oliver out the front door, glancing around him at the deserted street. Where moments ago there had been two full tact teams and a number of support vehicles, there was nothing, not a car out of place or any evidence of the confrontation, except the distant sirens of the fire brigade eventually responding to the explosion. Roy’s thoughts were elsewhere though. He wondered who was in charge of the Starling office of ARGUS now, were those the tactical teams that Kyle had been running? He experienced a split-second flashback to that day in the park, where he had found out what the man really did, when he had stopped lying. But…the past is dead, as they say, and Roy wasn’t willing to relive everything that had happened, even if this mission meant going up against Kyle’s old employer.

 

Back at the Arrowcave, Roy listened quietly as Felicity briefed them on the ARGUS angle, noticing that Oliver kept glancing away from him whenever their eyes met. He frowned even as Felicity talked.

‘So, ARGUS covered their tracks well, but I managed to get a name and more importantly confirm that he was an ARGUS deep cover agent.’

Oliver nodded at Diggle, ‘So then?’

‘Uh, I’m not sure, Oliver.’

Roy looked over at Diggle, ‘Come on, surely Lyla can tell you who this guy is? What the boomerang guy killed him for?’

Diggle sighed uncomfortably, ‘Yeah, but if this is an ARGUS matter, she’ll want to keep it that way.’

‘Then tell them to stop letting people get killed in my city!’ Oliver barked at him, earning a surprised glare from Roy. Oliver growled internally: ARGUS, always in the last place he wanted them, or their damn agents. He didn’t even want to think about the fact that he had killed one of them. Even if it was an accident, and they knew, of course they bloody knew. He never understood how Waller seemed to know everything, no matter how many secrets he tried to keep. That was their job, he guessed, but it still made him nervous about dealing with them.

Diggle shrugged and nodded at Felicity and Roy, ‘Fine, but it’ll take a while. It’s not as if she’s just going to let me ask about a deep cover operative and man flinging boomerangs around. I’ll call you when I have something.’ He added, seeing Oliver’s un-amused face.

 

Roy left soon after and Felicity mumbled something about needing some rest before ‘actual’ work. Oliver was left with his thoughts as he stared at the agent’s face on Felicity’s monitor, thinking about that time in Hong Kong and things he had to do, the hard lessons. He didn't notice as the hours slipped by in his trip down memory lane, until he was interrupted from his thoughts by the low humming of his cell phone. Oliver glanced over to see Roy’s number, without hesitating he answered. 

‘Uh, hi? Roy that you?’

‘Um, sorry, this is just the number he’s called the most…’

Oliver felt a chill run down his back and stood up, reaching for his jacket and keys. 

‘Someone there?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m still here,’ Oliver spoke quickly as he left the Arrowcave quickly, ‘Is Roy ok?’

‘Not exactly. Look, I’m at the Tricky Nipple, down on 42nd Street, your buddy has passed out, figured I’d get someone down here rather than let him go home in a cab, you know?’

‘Yeah, yeah, thanks.’ Oliver sighed, running a hand through his short hair. The ‘Tricky Nipple?’ Did he even want to know what sort of place Roy was? Still, he better go get him. Oliver thanked the man again and climbed onto his bike, roaring off down the road, taking the corners quick as he rushed downtown.

 

Roy was barely conscious when Oliver arrived, frowning at everyone around him, even as he reached for the half full glass in front of him. The man beside him, the one on the phone, was in his early twenties and Oliver couldn’t help noticing his well-built figure clad in a tight fitting V-neck. He was a bit taller than Roy, his hair short and dark in the low-lit room, but his face was honest and handsome, well, more cute than handsome. The other patrons looked about the same age, a couple of them dancing to the slow music on the stage, grinding against each other as he passed by. It didn’t take him long to realise he was in a gay bar. Oliver walked quickly over to Roy and the young guy, feeling an unfamiliar discord in his stomach as he looked down at Roy. He could smell the alcohol from his breath as he leaned forward to murmur ‘’lo Olvr…’ Oliver nodded in thanks to the guy sitting next to Roy. ‘Hey, thanks.’

‘No, problem. I'm Jacob.’

‘Right, Oliver.’

‘So, uh, is he yours?’

‘What? No!’ 

Jacob’s brows shot up at Oliver’s too-fast answer and shrugged in response, ‘Ok, dude, chill out. Do you want a hand with him?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Oliver replied, his face heating with shame, he hadn’t meant to be as aggressive as he appeared to be. He reached down to pull Roy up and let Jacob hold him under one arm.

‘Ugh, mmh, feel sick.’ Roy moaned as they pulled and pushed him towards the cold air, the bouncers opening the door for them as Oliver smiled ruefully at them. They got another few feet before Roy fell down on the pavement and vomited his guts out. Jacob frowned and quickly got down on his knees beside him, patting him gently on the back as Oliver stood frozen. Roy dry heaved again as Jacob looked up to Oliver, ‘Hey dude, uh, you should probably bring him home?’

Oliver nodded, ‘Yeah, yeah I guess so. Thanks for your help.’

‘Any time, Oliver.’ 

Reaching down for Roy, he glanced over and his eyes met the young guy’s bright blue. Oliver swallowed nervously at the intensity of the gaze and quickly pulled Roy up, holding him close to his chest with one hand. Jacob flagged down a cab for them and stood to one side as Oliver pushed a protesting Roy inside, ‘Come onnnnn, Olvr, just one drink…’

‘In!’ He turned to see Jacob biting his lip, ‘Um, do you want a ride, ah, I mean, a lift?’ Oliver corrected himself quickly earning a sly grin from the younger man. 

‘Sure, but I live in Portside.’

‘Oh, that’s ok, we’ll go to my place.’ Oliver stopped talking, realising what he just said as Jacob climbed into the cab beside Roy. ‘Um, I mean…’

‘It’s cool, you want to keep an eye on your…not-boyfriend!’ He chuckled as Roy put an arm around him and reached over, trying to hug them both. Jacob smiled as he pushed Roy back into his seat, 'Come on Roy. Damn he's wasted.' He said over one shoulder to Oliver.

Oliver nodded as he gave directions to the driver. ‘ I can see that. Yeah, I better keep watch on him. My sister’s out of town at the moment: we share an apartment.’

‘Nice one.’

 

‘You know, when you said apartment, I was thinking something compact in the suburbs, not this penthouse downtown!’ Jacob looked around him as Oliver propped a   
now fully passed out Roy on the couch.

‘Yeah, well, my sister’s done well for herself, I’m just riding on her coattails at the moment.’ Oliver glanced up to see Jacob grin at him. ‘You want something to drink?’

‘Water is fine.’

Oliver nodded and pulled three bottles from the fridge, placing one beside Roy and offering the other to Jacob. ‘So, uh, are you a student?’

‘Just graduated, chemical engineering.’ He pulled a face, ‘not exactly a conversation starter!’

Oliver shrugged, ‘Maybe not, but I don’t think people go to the Tricky Nipple for conversation.’ He raised a brow as Jacob smiled at him.

‘Yeah, guess not. Your, uh, Roy was more interested in drinking than talking, that’s for sure.’

Oliver followed Jacob’s gaze and mentally kicked himself as he realised what Roy and Jacob would have been doing if he hadn’t intervened, or if Roy could go out without draining the contents of the bar every time he did so. Still, Jacob was pretty hot, even if he was a little on the young side for Oliver’s tastes. He was kinda glad Roy had passed out.

‘You two work together?’

‘Huh?’

‘He mentioned that you’d just finished a job, something about his ex?’

‘Oh, that.’ Oliver glared at Roy’s slowly rising and falling chest. ‘Yeah, we had an unfortunate run-in.’

Jacob nodded as he drank his water, ‘Sounded pretty messed up, but he wasn’t exactly making sense, so I didn’t get everything he was saying.’ He stopped for a moment, before getting up. ‘Hey do you have any ice?’

‘Uh, yeah. It’s in the fridge, glasses above the sink.’ Oliver twisted around to watch him walk over to the counter, his figure bending over as he rummaged through the fridge to get to the ice box. Oliver felt heat rise through him as he fixated on the man’s firm ass in his tight jeans. He felt compelled to stand up and walked quietly over to stand next to the sink as Jacob turned around, a little taken aback by the intensity of Oliver’s gaze. He unconsciously licked his lips as he brushed close to the older man, reaching for the glasses. Their eyes locked for a moment and Oliver reached forward, hands on Jacob’s waist, the firmness of his abs evident through the thin fabric. They stared at each other, Oliver moving closer, flicking his eyes down to the younger man’s slightly parted lips, his smooth, tanned, perfect skin. Oliver went for the kiss but Jacob pulled back, his palm pushing gently against Oliver’s chest.

‘Uh, no, sorry, dude.’ He whispered softly, eyes downcast. ‘You’re hot and all, it’s just, me and Roy, we’ve got this…’ He trailed off as Oliver took a step back, his face flaring red.

‘You’re together?’ He asked, surprised.

‘No, not like that. We just, you know, go out some times, have some drinks, hit on some hot guys, go home together if nothing is biting. It’s just a casual thing, dude. But,’ he paused looking over at the couch and then back at Oliver, ‘he’s into you, man. Big time. Roy likes playing hard to get, but really, he just wants a white knight.’ Jacob shrugged at him and gave Oliver a lopsided smile as he went over to sit at the end of the couch. 

Oliver sighed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck, ‘White Knight? Oh man.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter just kinda happened. I was planning on writing the second crossover chapter in one go, but I've split it in two, with the main bulk of the Flash & Arrow plot in the next one. Although, since a good portion of that has been written, it should be up soonish. 
> 
> I like the way this came out though, hopefully you did too!


	6. Chapter 6

Roy woke up, blinking as the early morning sun fell on his face. He moved about, the fabric of the couch beneath his shirtless torso felt unfamiliar and he looked up at the steel and brick walls around him. Where on earth was he? There was a movement at the bottom of the couch, something warm and soft pushed against his feet. He glanced down to see a familiar face sleeping peacefully: Jacob, their bodies covered with the same soft fleecy blanket. But this wasn’t his house, or Roy’s for that matter. He was just about to get up and take a look around when his sharp ears picked up the rattle of keys from outside the front door. He licked his lips nervously and laid back down, pretending to be asleep. Roy couldn’t remember anything that had happened last night; just the usual meet up with Jacob and they went to a club, had a few drinks, well, maybe more than a few judging from his churning stomach and aching head. Had they met someone there? Someone rich?

The door opened quietly as though not to wake anyone up. Roy bit his lip and opened his eyes just enough to see someone enter, pause and move closer to them. Whoever it was had stopped again, standing over the couch.

‘Roy?’ Uh oh, that was Thea. ‘Roy, are you awake?’

‘Ugh, yeah.’ He rolled over to look up at her somewhat surprised face, ‘uh Oliver said you’d be gone.’ He lied quickly, guessing correctly that Oliver wouldn’t have brought him back here if Thea was home.

‘Well, yes, but…’ She trailed off, glancing down at the unfamiliar man at the end of her couch. ‘Who’s he? Is he your…?’

‘What? No! No way, you’d think I’d bring my boyfriend here, after everything that’s happened?’

‘Oh, well, I just thought…’ She looked a little taken aback, but then gave him a rare smile, ‘He’s cute.’

Roy nodded non-committedly and sat up, reaching over to shake his shoulder, ‘Jacob, come on dude, wake up.’

‘Uh, damn, Roy, I was having the hottest dream.’ Jacob muttered as he resisted Roy’s hands, ‘That hunk, you know, Oliver? Fuck me if is he hot!’

Thea and Roy froze, their eyes connecting for a second before they stifled a laugh.

‘Uh huh, well his sister’s back. We better go. Come on!’ Roy stood up, gathering his things as Jacob looked over at Thea, his cheeks flaring red as he quickly grabbed his shoes.

‘Um, yeah, right, sorry. Uh, sorry.’ He looked sheepishly at her as she smiled at his embarrassment. 

‘No problem, I’m sure my brother would be flattered.’ Thea smiled to herself as she watched the two young guys leave, bickering quietly to each other. She certainly hadn’t expected that this morning. And Oliver, of course, was nowhere to be found, although she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter; this was the Oliver from before the island, always bringing people over, going out to bars and clubs (she could smell the stale booze on Roy’s breath). It was like he was back to himself again. And she had Roy to thank for that, she shook her head, surprised that the two men had become such good friends.

 

Felicity typed furiously on her keyboard, even as the glass doors of her office swung open. She didn’t look up, rushing to finish the last word on the report as she called out, 

‘Roger? I’m just finishing up.’

‘Uh, hi Felicity.’

She glanced up to see Caitlin and Cisco standing there, envelope in hand and eager faces grinning at her expectantly. She gulped and jumped up.

‘Guys! What are you doing here?’

‘Well you said you had a sample…’

‘I was going to post it.’ She looked between the two of them and frowned, ‘Why are you really here?’

‘We had some free time, Dr Wells had to go to some big secret conference thing, so we thought we’d come down.’ Cisco replied, grinning at her confused expression, ‘And you know, check out the Arrowcave!’

‘Uh, we don’t call it that. Well, Arsenal calls it that. But we don’t. Ever.’

‘Um, who?’

‘Arsenal? You know,’ she lowered her voice, ‘Roy?’

‘Oh, yeah, the archer guy in red. You know, he gets jealous so easily?’

Felicity stopped and turned to look at Cisco, ‘Huh?’

‘Yeah, I could see it when you all came to the lab.’ He looked at the two women as they frowned at him, ‘He was jealous, of Barry? Having so much time with the Arrow? Did you not see it?’

‘Uh, no. No, I didn’t.’ Caitlin responded primly.

‘Well you guys were pretty fixated on Barry…’ His last words earned him a smack across the ear and Felicity hid her smile as she gestured for them to follow her out of the office.

 

Oliver stared at Cisco as he strolled around the foundry basement, watching his every move with a grim clenching of his jaw.

‘Don’t touch that!’

‘Cool, pressurised CO2 launch mechanism?’ Cisco looked over to him eagerly as Oliver nodded reluctantly. Cisco giggled to himself and reached down for a dart.

‘Or that! They're razor sharp-‘

‘Dual cut ceramic darts?! Awesome!’

Oliver ground his teeth and looked over as Roy sipped his coffee. The younger man had arrived not long before Felicity and the 'tour group', a box of coffees in tow and proceeded to drink them one by one as he and Oliver avoided each other’s eyes. Oliver wasn’t sure if Jacob had said anything about last night and Roy just wasn’t talking. He was brought back to the present by a pained exclamation by Cisco. Oliver rolled his eyes, ‘Those are-‘

‘Collapsible needles for close quarters fighting! Even cooler!’ Cisco paused and turned to them, ‘wait, there wasn’t anything poisonous in them right? Right, guys?’

Oliver sighed and turned to give Felicity his death stare. She ignored him and tapped daintily on her tablet.

‘Since when have we started selling admission to the Arrowcave?’ Roy asked, glancing up from his cup.

‘Uh…gah, stop calling it that, Roy!’

‘What? You’ve always liked me calling it the Arrowcave! Besides, he actually enjoys looking at this stuff.’

Cisco nodded at him, as he walked over to the display cases examining Oliver’s suit and muttering under his breath, before speaking up, ‘You know, there’s a lot of upgrades you could get on this, I have so many ideas!’ 

Roy grinned at him as the scientist darted behind him, ‘Damn! Now this is what I’m talking about! You don’t even need mods on this,’ he rubbed the fabric between two fingers carefully looking back at Roy. ‘Custom made, right?’

Roy nodded.

‘Yeah, I can see it. Plus red is so much cooler than green, am I right?’

Roy smirked and tipped his third coffee at Oliver, ‘I’m beginning to like these guys, Oliver.’

The archer just groaned and looked down at his phone; still no word from Diggle. He had said he was meeting with Lyla in the afternoon, something about a big conference she had to be at. Oliver wished Diggle would hurry up, ARGUS always were a pain to deal with.

 

Diggle glanced up at the sound of shoes echoing on the hard polished floors of ARGUS HQ, watching as men and women in business suits exited from a room he couldn’t see. He stood up as Lyla smiled at him, dodging around the other agents as she walked briskly over to him.

‘Sorry for the wait, project de-briefing.’ 

Diggle shrugged, ‘It’s fine. I, uh,’

‘I think I know why you’re here, John. But seriously, you guys should leave it alone. It’s an internal ARGUS matter.’ She nodded at him to follow her as she crossed the upper landing towards her office.

‘I told Oliver that, Lyla.’

‘Well then, there’s nothing I can do for you.’

‘Come on, sweetie, people are dying here, plus he’s killing with boomerangs. It’s a little outside your wheelhouse. Let us help you.’ Diggle dropped his voice a little as he saw Lyla straighten up. He glanced over and stood aside as a group of agents walked by. Lyla nodded stiffly to one of them.

‘Sir.’

‘Agent Michaels.’

Diggle was about to speak but his eyes locked onto the back of the retreating agent, he looked familiar. 

‘John? You only call me sweetie when you want something. What is it?’

He smiled at her, 'Well, is it working?’

She grinned back at beckoned him into the central office. ‘Look, there’s only so much I can do, but I’ll-‘ She was cut off mid-sentence by a shrieking alarm. They looked around as red lights began flashing and the nearby agents stood up hurriedly.

‘What the hell?’

‘Security breach, lobby! One target heading for Ops Prime.’ A man called out to them as he pointed towards the next room, ‘Tactical teams are meeting next door, Director Waller is calling for you, Agent Michaels! Agents Westen and Hargrave are heading up the tactical teams!’

She glanced at Diggle and pushed him towards the glass door. The room was filled with agents pulling on body armour and loading assault rifles. The security screens were replaying a clip of a man throwing a boomerang at the desk guards. Diggle was about to argue with Lyla when he stopped, his attention drawn to a man who was supposed to be dead. Oliver had been certain, but there he was, thrusting a handgun into his hip holster, a machine gun by his side and a flurry of activity around him. Diggle turns away, just in case Westen recognises him and pulls out his phone, dialling Oliver’s number quickly.

‘Oliver, it’s me. I’m at ARGUS HQ, he’s here. You better hurry.’ Diggle felt Lyla tap his shoulder and he turned as she gestured for him to leave.

‘We’re going to cut off his escape; lockdown protocols will force him to return through the lobby.’

‘Gotcha, but, uh, sweetie?’

‘Here you go,’ Lyla smiled as she handed him a spare gun and jogged out with the rest of the agents.

 

‘What’s going on?’ Roy asks as Oliver grabs his bow and hangs up the phone.

‘ARGUS is under attack, get suited up, we need to go.’

‘ARGUS?’

‘Yeah, is that going to be a problem for you?’

‘No of course not, I’ve just never been there before is all.’

‘It’s not far, you ready?’

Roy nods, swinging his full quiver on his back as he zips up the final part of the suit, he takes up the bow and follows Oliver out to their bikes. Oliver gestures for him to stay close and takes the lead, roaring off into the night.

 

Kyle turns to his men, barking orders and indicating where to stand. The klaxons wails across the complex as security shutters rattle down and the thud of army boots is heard all around. He pulls out a radio, ‘Is the weapon secure?’

‘Yes, sir, it just arrived in the vault. Lockdown procedures should keep it safe. The blast door has been activated as well. ’

‘I’m diverting the next group to your location, do not let that door open until I enter the authorisation codes. Intruder is an unknown male, heavily armed with unidentified targets. Lethal force has been authorised and you’re clear to engage him at will. Understood?’

‘Affirmative.’

‘Ok, you two, cover the exit. The rest of you,’ he glances at Diggle, not recognising him, ‘get ready to fire.’

 

The man barrels out around the corner, boomerangs flying out of his hands, the first five hitting their mark even as the senior agents yell for cover.

‘Get down, you idiots! And return fire!’

‘Move! Move! Move!’

The clatter of assault rifles fill the air as bullets ricochet off the marble floor and the man ducks into cover, waiting for his weapons to return to him. Kyle pushes Diggle out of the way of a returning boomerang and tosses him a spare rifle. ‘Get down!’ 

Kyle moves across the foyer towards two agents, twitching in a rapidly expanding pool of blood, ducking as the final silver streak returns to the man’s hand. He stands up just as the guns fall silent and hurried shouts of ‘Reloading!’ are called across the exit doors.

The remaining agents scrabble to find cover, two more falling before the deadly weapons and a loud bang echoes around the lobby as one of the spinning silver weapons explodes in a shattering arc. A silver streak of death is heading towards Lyla before being shot down by an arrow. Kyle looks up to see Arsenal and the Arrow drop to the floor, before ducking down again, cursing under his breath. He grabs his radio, ‘This is Westen, cover blown, repeat, cover blown. Activate the Guardian Protocol!’ A sharp hiss of escaping gas can be heard around the foyer as the lights suddenly go out and plunge the entire room into darkness even as the thick impenetrable smoke cloud is released, obscuring his position from everyone else. Kyle jumps up and follows the green reflective lights into the vast underground warren of ARGUS’ research labs, using his clearance to bypass security until he’s far enough from Roy to take a breath. ‘Engage emergency venting in the foyer. And send support teams!’

 

Meanwhile in the lobby, the villain stands his ground, his escape path obscured by the thick fog as Oliver detonated explosive arrows near the glass, and the emergency fans kick in. Before he had a chance to run, Roy and Oliver were back on him, laying down covering fire as Diggle and the last few agents pulled back. Roy hissed as a boomerang pulled his bow from his hands, but he switched with practiced ease to his secondary weapons, pulling the batons up and joined Oliver in attacking the man. A powerful kick caught him off guard and he sprawled on the floor, struggling to rise even as he watched two boomerangs twirl through the air towards Oliver. A sudden burst of yellow and red light and the weapons were rendered useless, gripped in the hands of the Flash. They all stared at him, the villain frowned and threw down a smoke bomb, using the distraction to vanish. A quick glance around and Barry grins at Oliver, while Roy grits his teeth and stands up. Barry hung around for a second, long enough to see Oliver’s thankful smile and Roy’s jealous glare, and then he was gone. Roy rubbed his bruised ribs and sheathed his weapons. He glanced over at Oliver as yet more ARGUS soldiers moved in and covered the now empty room. 

Lyla was up and moving towards them, unsure what she had just seen; she was certain Oliver was about to get killed. But it didn’t matter, really, with the amount of dead and badly wounded agents around her. The alarms were still ringing out and the red lights flashed on and off as the medical teams were called in. She looked around at the devastation the lone man had caused, before heeding Oliver’s beckoning hand.

 

The English Gentleman looks Kyle up and down, his shirt open as a medic tends to his cuts, ‘A lucky escape, my friend.’

‘Didn’t know they were going to be there, that he, ah,’ he winces, ‘that Roy was going to be there. Had to escape, couldn’t take the risk.’

‘I’m not blaming you,’ he turned to look out the window at the foyer below them. ‘They’re still talking, I’ll find out what secrets are being told.’

‘Sure. I have to secure the weapon.’

‘Oh yes, we were interrupted before. Is it…successful?’

‘So far, yeah. It’s a hard counter to almost everything we’ve seen come out of Central City in the last few months. The live trials in Bialya were a complete success, but we’re still having problems minimising the components. But we’re almost there.’

‘Almost? What threat can we not stop?’ His face creased into concern as he looked down on the Arrow and Arsenal.

‘The Flash. Our computers can’t properly lock on because of his speed. But we’re working on it. Our…inside source at Star Labs is being very helpful in that matter. He’s not aware he’s helping us, of course.’

‘Good. Keep it that way. You can leave.’ He nodded at the medic before turning back to Kyle. ‘Agent Westen, I’m aware that you don’t want to be stationed back in Starling, but-‘ 

‘I’m sorry sir, but that wasn’t our deal. You said if I did what you wanted, made the weapon work…’ He gritted his teeth in pain, glancing down at the already blood soaked bandages.

The English Gentleman nodded and looked at him, ‘Waller still isn’t on board, even after everything that’s happened, as if the last few months in Central City haven’t demonstrated our need for this device. Well,’ he sighed, ‘we’re still keeping this under wraps.’

‘Black op?’

‘Yes, need to know only, top secret, the usual stuff. Now I really need to get down there.’

‘Sir.’ Kyle watched him walk down the stairs and stood up, walking over to the window, looking down from the top floor at the four figures in the lobby. He groaned to himself as he leaned against the railing and ran a finger over the fresh gauze on his arm, feeling the torn skin beneath it knit together un-naturally fast.

 

‘What happened earlier? With the gas?’ Diggle looks over to Lyla as Oliver and Roy wait for the medics to leave.

‘Uh, it’s called the Guardian Protocol, designed to aid the escape of high value operatives. I’ve never seen it deployed here before. There was an agent with us, not sure his of his real name; we call him ‘Ironhide’. That's not his codename, Onslaught, I think it is. But everyone who worked with him in Bialya called him Ironhide. Real up and comer, Handles foreign missions mostly.’

‘He could sure shoot.’ Diggle avoids looking at Oliver or Roy, ‘why “Ironhide”?’

She suppressed a grin, ‘He’s a hard-ass, but nothing ever fazed him. Worked with him in Bialya and that was no picnic. But yeah, he’s pretty important, in charge of black ops, I think.’

Oliver nodded, ‘So who attacked you? What’s his name?’

‘It’s an internal…’ She hesitated as the three of them stared at her, ‘fine. His name is Digger Harkness, former ASIS weapons and technology specialist. He turned mercenary and didn’t discriminate in selling his services. We caught him three years ago.’

‘Looks like he escaped.’ Roy added drily as Lyla frowned at him, ‘Well?’

‘Not exactly. Harkness was judged ideal for Task Force X.’

‘The Suicide Squad.’ Diggle nodded, ‘so your guy, Ironhide, was he in charge?’

‘No, he wasn’t ranked high enough yet. Besides, he handles more…shadowy operations.’

Diggle and Oliver exchanged glances; the Suicide Squad was already pretty shady; what else was ARGUS up to? Oliver shrugged, he didn't want to know, and nodded at Lyla to continue.

‘There was a mission in Tanzania, it went south. Intelligence indicated there was no viable extraction strategy, so the unit was sanitised.’

‘You mean killed?’

‘Yes, Roy, it was necessary. But Waller couldn’t be reached and I was the only available senior officer in Ops at the time.’

Diggle nodded, ‘So Harkness’ collar malfunctioned and now he’s back for you?’

‘So it would seem.’ They looked around to see a grey haired man approach them, one hand resting comfortably on his holstered gun, the other leaning heavily on his cane. Roy’s eyes widened a little as he recognised the hard bitter cold of the man’s voice, the same clipped English tones as before. ‘I know who you are; Arrow, Arsenal, Mr Diggle, Agent Michaels.’ He nodded at each of them in turn, even as Roy and Oliver dropped their heads, forcing their faces into shadow. Lyla nodded at him as Diggle studied him carefully. 

‘You may call me the English Gentleman, a little more subtle than Ironhide, hmm?’

‘Uh, yes, sir. Meant no offense to Agent, uh, Onslaught, sir.’

‘So then, Harkness is back, like a bad penny, they always return.’ He spoke to them all, even as Roy felt the man’s ice blue eyes linger on him. ‘But not to worry, Mr, uh, Arrow, we can take it from here.’ He turned away, about to signal to the nearby tactical team before Oliver broke in, his voice modulator activating.

‘I don’t think you can. This man, he knows everything about ARGUS, knows your facilities, probably even the ones you think are secret. He infiltrated one of the most secure government facilities in the state and managed to get out unscathed. She won’t be safe with you. There’s only one place she will be: with us.’

The English Gentleman hesitated a moment before nodding, ‘Very well, I see your point. But I warn you, as much as she is your friend, she’s still ARGUS. Protect your wife well, Mr Diggle.’

‘We’re not-’

‘She’s not-’

‘Huh, of course,’ He hides a smile and turns away, walking across the floor at the same time they turned to leave, Roy lingering as he heard the man’s first few words.

‘You’re in the vault? Good, the Sun Killer must be moved…’

Sun Killer? That sounded familiar.

‘Arsenal! Come on.’

Roy swore under his breath and turned to go, a prickling sensation on his neck as he went; the feeling of someone watching him. But as he turned around, walking backwards, the foyer was empty, the expanse of offices dark except for a room at the very top, a figure silhouetted against the window. He thought…but then Oliver’s voice was in his ear, irritated and urging him back on his bike. Must have just been his imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working my way through the crossover episode: there's just so much potential in it! So my plan is to write a chapter each evening until I have it done, hopefully have it finished by Sunday, and move onto the mid-season finale. Plus I kinda wish they'd develop ARGUS more in the show and bring it into the Flash, guess I'm just missing Marvel's Agents of Shield right now! Anyway, hope you're enjoying it so far, and don't worry, Oliver/Roy is still the main pairing in our slow build.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, scenes of torture incoming (in line with the episode) plus a very irrationally jealous Roy Harper!

Roy followed Oliver down the stairs towards the Arrowcave, Diggle and Lyla close behind him. But they might have been a million miles away for all he took notice of them. Those last few words the English Gentleman had spoken into his walkie-talkie haunted him; he knew he had heard it somewhere, seen those words written down. But it didn’t matter, not really, not when Diggle’s wif- When Lyla was in danger. And especially not with that damnable speedster back in the picture. It had been bad enough to see him all pally with Oliver last week in Central City, but to have him save Oliver while he, Roy, was winded on the floor was just too much. He could’ve saved Oliver, if he wanted to, he should’ve jumped up and pushed Oliver out of the way of the weapons. A few months ago he would have done it in a heartbeat, but he had got complacent, willing to trust that Oliver was near invincible. Ok, maybe if Barry hadn’t been there, Oliver would be hurt now, but that still didn’t give him a reason to show off that smarmy grin. Roy ground his teeth as they circled the examination table, Lyla glancing around at the well-equipped room.

Diggle shook out a bag of boomerang fragments onto a tray as Felicity and Cisco reached for pieces, one interested, the other in a sort of fascinated awe. Oliver raised a brow at the scientist and he quickly shut his mouth. 

‘Sorry, it just looks so cool!’

Oliver sighed and was about to start speaking when a torrent of wind and yellow lightning blazed past them. They all turned to stare at Barry relaxing in a nearby chair, sushi bowl in one hand, mask pulled back and chewing furiously. Lyla spluttered a little before turning to look questioningly at Diggle. Caitlin, meanwhile, glared at Barry.

‘Secret identity? Remember?’

‘Oh, yeah, but it’s…Come on they’re married!’

‘No we’re-‘

‘We’re not-‘

‘Oh,’ Barry pulled a face and smiled apologetically at Caitlin.

Roy rolled his eyes and sighed. Typical, can’t even enter a room without causing a stir. He glared at Barry, while Oliver frowned at the speedster.

‘Barry, Can I have a word?’

Barry nodded and followed Oliver’s outstretched arm. Roy watched them go into the back of the room, away from the others, even as introductions were made and the three techs huddled around the broken pieces of the boomerang. Roy let his hands curl into fists as he saw Oliver place a hand on Barry’s shoulder and lean in to talk to him better. He can’t believe that they’re going to have to work with the guy again. And his anger at Barry being alone with Oliver has nothing to do with how damn sexy he looks in that smoking' red outfit, with the sizable bulge at the front that just draws Roy’s eyes, or how his hair has that fluffy quality that makes Roy want to touch it…

Stupid Barry Allen and his stupidly good looking face and that stupidly tight fitting super fucking hot suit that lets Roy see the guy’s well-endowed…Roy blinked as he realised the others were staring at him. ‘What?’ he barked, a little more aggressive than he meant. Diggle just shrugged while Felicity sided over. 

‘We could hear your teeth grinding,’ She gave him a half grin and continued, ‘And you were glaring pretty hard at Barry.’ Roy snorted and moved away from them, watching jealously as Oliver put a hand on Barry’s shoulder again, steering him back towards everyone. This was going to suck.

 

He watched as Barry took the tray from Lyla and in an instant had all the pieces back together. Oliver turned to look at Roy and then to Felicity.

‘We need to find the man who’s after Lyla; his name is Digger Harkness. See what you can find about him, Felicity, while we put the pieces of the…back together.’ He finished slowly as Barry presented him with the completed set of boomerangs.

‘Huh? Huh, Oliver?’

‘Great.’ It didn’t sound great to Roy and he hid a grin, looks like the Flash wasn’t as perfect in Oliver’s mind as he thought. Cisco reached over and took up a complete boomerang gingerly.

‘Blades are still sharp, 3d printed polymer, more advanced than the last ones.’

Roy nodded, ‘Yeah, some of Harkness’ weapons exploded.’

Cisco glanced at him, ‘Yes, see here,’ he pointed and Roy leaned in to see his finger indicating the grooves in the weapon’s blade. ‘C4 could be packed in here, and triggered with the micro-circuitry weave into a pretty deadly shrapnel bomb.’ He frowned, ‘Hey, see this? It’s unique, a signature made by the designer. Klaus Markus, should help you track Harkness down.’

Oliver nodded his thanks and looked to Felicity, ‘Is that enough for you, Felicity?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry, Oliver, don’t you know I can find anyone?’ She grinned at him cheekily while he turned to address the others.

‘Ok, Roy?’

‘Yeah?’ He broke off his staring match with the somewhat confused Barry to look at Oliver.

‘You’re coming with me, and Barry, of course.’

Roy nodded, wonderful, he got to watch them be buddy-buddy up close, how fun!

‘Diggle, you and Lyla better stay here, there’s guns and ammo in the locker by the door. Help yourself. Cisco, Caitlin…’

‘We’ll stay here.’

‘Yeah, you don’t need us, you’ve got the Flash! And Arsenal,’ Cisco added as an afterthought, earning a furious look from Roy.

Oliver nodded and turned back to Felicity. Roy grabbed his bow and went over to re-fill his arrow quiver as Barry glanced between him and Oliver before following Roy. He tapped the shorter man on the shoulder.

‘Hey, Roy? Do you have a problem with me, or something?’

Roy turned to look at him, a frown playing about his features. He hesitated before answering, ‘Uh, no, no I’m fine.’

‘Really? Because I don’t have to be CSI to see you don’t like me. Which I don’t get, since we’ve barely even met. I thought, well last week you seemed to like me fine.’

Roy shrugged, ‘I guess, I mean, before you went all rage-mode.’

‘Oh. That.’ Barry rubbed the back of his neck, noticing that Roy’s face had softened and he was looking at him at bit…oh. Barry didn’t expect that. ‘So, uh, I think I get it.’

‘Huh?’ Now it was Roy’s turn to look confused.

‘It’s cool, but you know I’m not interested... You know?’

Roy frowned at him and pushed past him, totally unaware of what Barry was trying to say. ‘Look let’s just go. I don’t want to talk to you. We’re ready.’ He directed the last part to Oliver who nodded at them.

‘Good. Felicity has a location.’

‘Where?’

‘Docks, Markus used to run IDs for the Bratva. Russian mob.’ He added, seeing their confused faces. ‘This is going to be tough, and we need him alive.’

 

The docks were quiet, almost empty in fact. The warehouse that Oliver gathered them together outside was alone in the row of identical buildings to have lights on, crates surrounding it and the occasional patrolling guard. He gestured for Roy to come down from his position on top of a nearby crate.

‘Well?’

‘I count at least five on the outside, another six in the front room. The door was open.’ He added in response to Oliver’s raised brow. ‘Automatic guns too, they’ll make a hell of a racket if we don’t take them down quietly. Honestly, Oliver, there’s like twenty guys. Can’t we call on some ARGUS fire support?’

Oliver shook his head furiously, ‘No way, we handle this alone, and quiet. We have speed on our side.’ He gave Barry a grin as Roy simmered. ‘Ok, so here’s what we’re going to do.’

Barry glanced at him, his eyes roaming over the red and black suit, until their eyes met. ‘Hey nice outfit by the way,’ Barry grins at Roy. 

The archer just stares back and grunts, ‘This place looks like a fortress.’

‘Roy, take the south-east corner, cover our exit. Barry scan the perimeter.’ They both nod and Roy heads off into the forest of wood pallets while Barry zips off and disables everyone in a matter of seconds. Oliver sighs at him.

‘Was that wrong?’

No response.

‘What? Wait, what is it with you guys and not answering?’

 

Oliver stalked through the empty warehouse towards the back exit. He paused outside a metal door, hearing a gentle tinkling from inside. He adjusted his grip on the bow and kicked the door open. He watched the Flash burst pass him as Markus stumbled from his seat, a fresh boomerang falling out of his hands as he reached for a gun. Barry was quicker and pulled the weapon from his hand as he pushed Markus up against the nearby wall. Oliver stepped forward and spoke in a low growl.

‘Klaus Markus? Where’s the man you’re selling these to?’ He held up a boomerang and watched the flicker in the man’s eyes as he glanced between the two of them. Oliver gritted his teeth as Barry grinned back at him. What did he think this was, a game? Instead Oliver notched an arrow to his bow. ‘Tell me!’

Markus looked back at the Flash and remained silent.

‘Fine.’ Oliver released the arrow, watching it burrow into the man’s arm, even as Barry sprung back in surprise. ‘The only thing worse than an arrow going in is an arrow coming out!’ Oliver reached down to grasp the shaft, twisted as he did so, enlisting another scream of pain from him.

‘Woah! Woah!’ Barry gestured wildly, ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Getting the information. Now where is he?!’ Oliver twisted the arrow ruthlessly even as Barry looked at him in helplessness.

‘I don’t know! I don’t know! Please!’

‘He said he doesn’t know! Come on, Arrow!’

Oliver ignored him and bared his teeth, ‘He’s lying! If you ever want to be able to use this arm again, tell me!’

‘Ok, ok, ok!’ Markus reached hurriedly into his pocket and pulled out a phone, offering it to them in shaking hands, ‘Please, it’s encrypted. He gave it to me after a meet, wanted more, please, that’s all I know!’

Oliver took the phone from his trembling fingers and gave the arrow a final, punishing twist as he pulled it out, watching the man collapse to the floor in agony, before glaring at Barry and walking out. 

 

Barry watched him leave, his previous levity completely muted after the brutal torture he had just witnessed. Maybe Dr Wells and Joe were right about the Arrow. He knelt quickly to check on the bleeding, before standing and darting out, finding Oliver standing some distance away near the pier. He stopped a few feet back.

‘What the hell was that?’

‘It’s called an interrogation, Barry.’

‘That was fucking torture!’

‘He’s Bratva. Do you know what that means? Do you? No you don’t, because you’ve never had to deal with the ugly side of crime, with the gangs and the triads and brutal face of what these people are like! I was Bratva, I know what they’re capable of and what it takes to break one of them, so don’t think you can come in here and tell me I’m too fucking hard on them.’

‘There’s a better way, Oliver. Evidence, science, chasing a goddamn lead.’

‘And it takes too fucking long. The time we saved there could be the difference between a life and a death.’

‘Yeah, but who’s death, Oliver?’

‘Someone innocent, someone who hasn’t thrown their life away to be with them. They’re the enemy, we’re not.’

‘Even if you use their tactics?’

‘I told you, Starling City is different; meaner, tougher, sometimes it just takes more.’

Barry shook his head, unwilling to hear anymore. Neither of them noticed Roy come out of the darkness, the shadows stretching out from the crate kingdom were banished by the full moon rising over water. He could hear their raised voices from a distance and hurried out to see Barry with his hands on his hips as Oliver stood stoic against him. Roy walked slowly over to them.

‘What happening? Cops are going to be here soon. Someone,’ He paused, glaring at Barry, ‘alerted them that a man was shot in the warehouse.’

Oliver shook his head and turned away from them as Barry glanced at Roy.

‘Whatever. This conversation isn’t over.’ With that he sped away, a yellow lightning blur across the city streets.

‘Oliver?’ Roy reached out for him, but the older man brushed him off angrily. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, it’s not you.’ He sighed, ‘Ah shit, let’s just go home, Roy.’

 

They were all grouped together in the Arrowcave; Felicity, Cisco and Caitlin staring at the screens as the numbers scrolled rapidly by in green text. Diggle and Lyla stood with Roy in a silent little group, while Oliver was off to the side, an arrow in one hand as his finger beat a rhythm on the shaft. Barry had sat down on the stairs and just pouted. Roy had rolled his eyes when he saw him, but refrained from saying anything; about time the speedster got put in his place. 

Lyla glanced between Oliver and Barry, feeling the tension in the air. She wandered over to Oliver and nodded back at Barry.

‘Everything alright between you and the road-runner there?’

Oliver frowned and then shrugged, ‘We had a…falling out over my interrogation methods. He prefers the kind, soft, legal approach.’

‘And you don’t?’

‘Let’s just say, I’ve learned the hard way that it only leads to more people dying, than just cutting the bullshit and doing the dirty work to get the information.’

She nodded, thinking back at her own experiences, ‘There are people in this world who only deal in extremes-‘

‘And it would be naïve to think that anything less than extreme measures would stop them.’ Oliver finished as Lyla gave him a rueful smile.

‘Most people don’t get it. They dance around the subject, or they dress it up in fancy language to make themselves feel better. But the hard reality is that sometimes those extreme measures are needed.’

‘You talking from experience?’

She nodded, ‘You remember I mentioned Ironhide? There was a moment in Bialya when it looked like everything we had worked for was going to collapse. A defector.’ She added in response to Oliver’s raised brow. ‘She didn’t agree with our methods, but she had no problem selling us out. When it’s them or us, you make the tough decisions quickly. Well I thought I’d be able to, we all just kinda froze and then Ironhide comes marching in, gun in one hand, report in the other. We looked at him, and he knew. We talked big, but we couldn’t do it.’

Oliver listened to her speak, aware that Roy had moved a little closer to eavesdrop, but nodding for Lyla to continue.

‘With the press of a button the traitor would have condemned us all; we’d never have got out of the country alive. He stood there, raised his gun and shot her. I can still remember the sound of the bullet case falling onto the floor, just as I remember Ironhide’s words. “Them or us, we do what we must”.’ She glanced up at Oliver, ‘trust me, I understand, even if you don’t pull the trigger, you leave a piece of yourself there. We do what we must.’

‘Whatever the personal cost.’ Oliver glanced over to catch Roy’s eye and smiled sadly at him, as Lyla turned back at Felicity excited yelp.

‘I got it! Here, look.’

They crowded around the monitor and Lyla frowned, ‘Wait, is that…?’

‘ARGUS satellite, yeah.’ She grinned, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve left the super-secret spy satellites alone, I like my freedom too much!’ 

‘Oh, great.’ 

Roy squinted at the screen. ‘This one for domestic communication protocols, you can see the designation in the corner.’

They all turned to look at him in surprise. He blushed and coughed.

‘Uh, I used to know someone, he, uh, he knew stuff.’ Lyla stared at him, before Oliver cleared his throat and at pointed at the moving heat signatures on the screen.

‘Looks like they’re all there, inside. Hmm.’

Cisco held up a device, ‘I can track their positions with this.’

Oliver nodded and gestured to Diggle and Roy. ‘Go with them and establish a perimeter around the building. We move in when we’re sure they can’t get out. Felicity keep in contact with both teams.’ Oliver turned around to find Barry standing in his way.

‘Hey. I’ll race you there.’ He was muted, his once upbeat voice flat, but still ready to lend a hand. 

Oliver didn’t reply, just nodded at him and left. Barry found himself under scrutiny again and bit his lip, knowing it was Roy without even having to turn around. ‘What did I do now?’

‘Oliver does what he thinks is right. He’s been doing this a lot longer than either of us; you should trust him.’

‘I do. I just don’t agree with torturing people who won’t give him a straight answer. Besides, do you really think he’s right?’

Roy shrugged, brushing past Barry, deliberately bumping into him, ‘Come on, Flash, you better make like lightning and bolt!’ 

Ok, maybe the speedster was kinda hot, but he really needed to lose that smirk, it made Roy want to punch him, and then kiss him. Damn, he needed it bad. Maybe tonight, after the mission, he’d head out, find some randomer and imagine it was Oliver buried deep in him. Because the archer was dragging his heels when it came to anything intimate between them, still wanting to protect him, Roy guessed. But fuck it, he wanted someone to hold him, kiss him, fuck him even for one night. He turned around and gave Barry a grin and a wink before pulling his hood up over his face and running up the stairs.

Barry stared at him, he couldn’t figure Roy out; sometimes he seemed to like him, and then others he looked daggers at him. Mostly when he was with Oliver. Oh wait. ‘Of course!’ Barry whispered under his breath as he took off in a burst of air. Felicity groaned as her neatly piled stacks of paper floated up around her.

‘Dammit Barry!’


	8. Chapter 8

Cisco’s attempts to discuss the philosophical merits of superpowers, heroes and villains go on deaf ears, or at least on Roy’s. He ignores them as Diggle tries to figure out what the scientist is rambling on about, his concentration is on something else. Roy looks out the window at the passing cityscape and wonders how things might have been different if he wasn’t doing this with Oliver. Would he be an ordinary guy with an ordinary social life? Or just another street thug waiting for that one fuckup that’d send him to Iron Heights for next twenty years of his life? Or would it have been something completely different? Did it even matter? Sure, Oliver had good plans now and again and they did a pretty good job of keeping the city free of major criminals, but there was no big, grand strategy to it anymore. Maybe things were easier in Central City; the villains had cringe-worthy nick-names and a sexy skin-tight suit-wearing hero to protect them. The heroes were actual heroes, not cast in the shadowy half-light of being ex-vigilantes or just straight up killers. He was kinda jealous of Barry, getting to go back to that life, not really jealous of his powers, but wishing there was more than just him and Diggle and Oliver and Felicity. They were all older than him, if not by much, and it wasn’t as if he had anyone left to talk to stuff about. Jacob never understood him when he tried, and Kyle, well, just because he was dead didn’t mean that Roy had forgotten him. He thought about the ARGUS agent every time he put on his suit, that shy grin every time he struggled into the ridiculously tight pants.

A bump in the road jarred him and he snapped his unfocused eyes back onto the road in front of him. Diggle was slowing down and pointed to the low roofed shack just ahead.

‘There.’

‘Right.’ Roy pulled his bow out from the back and turned to Cisco, ‘Wait here. Keep everything running in case we have to bug out.’

‘Bug. Out?’ He asked slowly and Diggle rolled his eyes.

‘He means in case we need to retreat.’ Roy opened the door and waited for Diggle to pull out his gun. ‘I guess I’m rubbing off on you, huh?’

‘Yeah, must be.’ Roy muttered as he and Diggle swept in from the south entrance. Oliver and Barry had already arrived. The Flash obviously going in first, the bemused patrons gaping at him even as they realised they had been tied up. Roy raised a brow at Barry as he grimaced at the one moaning bouncer behind him, Oliver’s arrow in his shoulder. Guess he wasn’t quite perfect, even if he gave Roy a shrug and grin. He ignored the Flash and spoke to Oliver.

‘Now what?’

‘Alright, listen up you scum!’ Oliver turned to address the men, ‘Where’s Digger Harkness?’

Silence.

‘Ok then, let’s do this the hard way.’ Oliver pulled out an arrow as Barry watched him warily. There was a rustling among the prisoners and one of them held up a phone.

‘We never met him, but he did give us this for the one in green. I guess that’s you.’

Oliver snarled at the grinning man and took the phone from his hands. ‘Son of a…’

‘Arrow? What does this mean?’ Roy asked as Barry walked over to them. ‘He set us up?’

‘Yeah. Come on, there’s nothing for us here.’

 

Felicity started as the phone beside her began to ring. It was the one Oliver had recovered from Harkness’ dealer. She stared at it as Lyla came to stand before her.

‘You going to get that?’

‘It’s not mine, and I was sure I turned it off.’

‘Could someone have turned it on remotely?’

‘And used it to backtrace our location?’ She paused and looked at the other two women in horror, ‘we need to get out of here now!’ They jumped up as the deadly song of a boomerang came rushing out of the darkness. Caitlin yelped as it buried itself into the desk by her hand. Felicity grabbed her other hand and pushed her into the darkness behind the server wall. Lyla backed up and reached for her hand gun as Harkness came strolling out of the shadows, his mouth smiling as his eyes burned like ice.

‘Finally. Hello Lyla, it’s been a long time.’ He grinned at her as he reached for another boomerang. 

She kept backing up slowly and glancing to her right, saw the red darts Roy carries on his armour laid out. She flicked her eyes back to Harkness and then grabbed a handful of the darts, flinging one straight at him as she rolled into cover. He deflected it with ease and flung two of his weapons at her, missing as they scraped the server tower near Felicity. She screamed as sparks rained down and Lyla returned fire with the last dart. Harkness ducked down, catching his boomerangs as they returned to him. Lyla finally freed her gun from its holster and flicked the safety off before firing a shot at Harkness. He dodged and moved closer as she unloaded the clip. Bullets ricocheted around the room as Felicity ducked and ran over to where Oliver kept the special arrow heads. She grabbed an explosive one and yelled out, ‘Get down!’ Throwing it at Harkness, as she flung herself to the floor. There was a grunt and Felicity looked back to see Lyla falling backwards, a boomerang half buried in her chest. She had a moment to look up into the villain's triumphant face before the arrow head detonated. A second later he was gone.

‘No!’ Felicity rubbed the smoke from her eyes and crawled over to Lyla’s shaking form. ‘Caitlin!’

‘Ok, ok, ok. Stop the bleeding!’ Felicity grabbed the nearest towel and pushed it against the blade, watching in horror as the blood seeped into the white fabric at an alarming rate. She applied pressure as Caitlin searched through their first aid supplies. Finding what she needed she came back to Felicity and with shaking fingers checked the woman’s pulse as she injected the drug into her stomach. She paused and looked at Felicity.

‘She’s not breathing.’

‘What do we do?’

Caitlin steeled herself and nodded at Felicity, ‘You need to apply pressure around the wound as I pull the boomerang out, then when I say, we both use these towels to try and stop the bleeding and hope she clots.’

‘Won’t she bleed to death?’

‘Uh, let’s just remove it. She’ll die for sure if we leave it in.’

Felicity grimaced and followed Caitlin’s instructions, until they had the blade removed and were applying pressure to Lyla's chest. She gulped back bile as the blood began to seep through her fingers. The sound of boots on the stairway had never been so welcome.

 

Diggle rushed down the stairs and knelt at Lyla’s side, looking over at Felicity.

‘I tried, we tried, but she needs a real doctor.’

Diggle nodded and hugged Lyla to his chest as he turned to the rest of them, ‘Barry, please.’

The Flash nodded and Roy stood out of his way as he carefully lifted the barely breathing woman into his arms. There was a burst of yellow light and usual flutter of loose papers as Barry sped out of the room. Oliver fumed, unable to meet Diggle’s gaze; Lyla was supposed to have been safe here. And he failed. 

Roy watched Oliver carefully, even as he led Caitlin and Felicity away to clean up their bloodied hands and clothes. Oliver seemed buried in his thoughts, that hard look on his face whenever he blamed himself for what had gone wrong. Roy wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to do it with everyone around. He was pretty sure Oliver didn’t want that sort of emotional comfort from him, so he nudged Felicity and nodded in Oliver’s direction. She took the hint as he grabbed the soap and gently washed Caitlin’s shaking hands. The scientist had obviously never been in a situation like this one and he was glad when Cisco came over to help out. Roy left them together and went over to examine the boomerang buried in the metal desk, thankfully it looked like the non-exploding ones.

Felicity came back over to them and Roy looked past her to see Diggle walking out.

‘What’s up?’

‘John’s going to the hospital, and I think Oliver wants us to leave.’

Roy glanced past her again and recognised the expression on the older man’s face. ‘Yeah, uh, let’s go upstairs, club’s open, you know, just in case he needs us again.’

They followed Roy out the side entrance and up onto the balcony. He gestured for one of the servers to come over to him and ordered for them all as Felicity and Caitlin shared a look. It wasn’t long until Thea came over with their order. She raised her brows at the group and set the tray down.

‘Four doubles, straight up. Honestly Roy, I was beginning to worry it was all for you!’ She offered him a smile but he just shrugged, ‘You guys alright?’

‘Yeah, just…a friend is hurt, is all.’

‘Ok, you need anything else…’

‘Got it.’ He nods and avoids the stares of the others as he swallows the double measure with ease. Felicity and Cisco sip the strong alcohol as Caitlin drinks slowly, her hands steadying. Roy licks his lips, savouring the burning sensation and swirls the ice in his glass before drinking again, sucking out the last little drops and wishing there was more. But he needed to keep his focus, needed to stay sober, just in case Oliver needed them. He looked up to see Caitlin watching him and he nodded at her.

‘Good work, you know. Even if he doesn’t say it, Oliver appreciates it. Both of you, you saved her.’

‘Yeah, we’ll see.’ She was silent for a moment and the as she was about to speak, her phone rang. ‘It’s Barry. Hold on.’ She pressed a finger to her ear and spoke quickly as Roy nodded at the server and made a drinking motion. Felicity frowned at him, but he shrugged.

‘I know my limits, up to three and I’m good.’

‘Ok, Roy.' She shook her head. 'It just seems wrong to be here and not at the hospital or something.’

He nodded as Caitlin finished up and sat down with them again. ‘Barry says she’s in surgery now, Mr Diggle is with her. She should be ok, we hope.’ 

‘She’s strong. She’ll make it. They’re tough to kill; ARGUS, I mean.’ He took a mouthful of the bourbon and relished the strength of the burning in his mouth before swallowing. He glanced up to see the two scientists looking a little lost, out of their depth. ‘It’ll get easier. It always does.’

‘How do you do it? Knowing that anyone you care about could be taken from you at any time? I mean for us, it’s been almost a game. We’re safe and secure in the Star Labs bunker with our computers and Dr Wells and Barry’s the one who’s out there. But it’s ok because he has these powers and the people he’s against have these powers and it’s all so different from here.’

Roy nodded, ‘Yeah, but I don’t think Oliver would fare very well against your metahumans, any more than I think Barry would against our regular band of crooks and thieves and murderers. Oliver might be tough and harsh and brutal at times, but so is Starling. I kinda hope that you don’t experience this; that everything stays like it is in Central City.’ 

They lapsed into silence digesting what was said as Roy slowly drank his second double and closed his eyes into that burning mellowness it gave him.

‘No, I can’t do this, I can’t just sit around and wait.’ He opened his eyes to see Felicity standing up, ‘I’m finding this bastard and then we’re taking him down!’

 

Roy half crouched, half bent over to see what Felicity and Cisco were doing. They were gathered around the monitors as Barry called out instructions to them.

‘Look, he’s got five bombs planted around the city on a single timer. Where are they?!’

‘Uh, uh, ok, in order to get that spread and act on one timer, he’d need….’

‘A multi-channel frequency detonation sequence!’ Cisco finished her sentence, as Roy frowned; what the hell did they just say?

‘So, can you guys stop it?’ He asked as he chewed his lip, he hated feeling this helpless.

‘Yeah, we just need to hack the signal and disrupt the frequency har-‘

‘Uh, I don’t need the details.’

‘Ok Roy.’ Felicity shot him an irritated look and he sighed. He should be out there with Oliver, kicking Harkness’ ass and saving Oliver’s. He heard an equally irritated Barry on the com line.

‘I need a location! I need five locations!’

‘Ok, ok, I have them, tracking radio receivers, co-ordinating with GPS…Ok! Got them!’ Felicity gave him directions as Roy watched Cisco type furiously, a worried frown creasing his face.

‘Ok, I got it! I’m going to run it out of the city and come back for the rest.’

‘No! Barry, wait!’

‘What?’

‘The bombs are linked, simultaneous detonation on deactivation, also simultaneous defusing should stop them from detonating.’

‘Ok, how do I do that?’

‘You don’t.’ Roy muttered as he glanced at the others, ‘You’re not fast enough. Look there’s five bombs, five of us. You come get us, we keep in radio contact and defuse them together.’

There was silence as Barry considered the suggestion, then he nodded and Roy looked up in time to see a burst of yellow lightning arrive and wreath around Caitlin before she disappeared. A second later the lightning returned and Cisco was grabbed, then Felicity, until finally it was his turn.

 

Time seemed to crystalize as Roy looked up to see Barry surrounded by yellow energy, that same grin on his face. And then he was reaching out to him, holding Roy’s legs as the archer grabbed onto Barry’s torso, the two of them travelling miles in an instant. The blurred cityscape turning into such perfect silver and red while Roy was cocooned in a shell of yellow light, the steady beat of Barry’s heart as Roy’s head pressed against his chest. 

And then time returned to normal, Roy gasping out the breath he had been holding as he staggers a little after the rush. Now he understood why Barry grinned so much. That feeling, the adrenalin pounding in your blood, being able to experience speed like that, Roy put out a hard to steady himself against the bomb container. The fact that he was rock hard too had more to do with that rush, he told himself, than it was being pressed against the surprisingly muscular body of the Flash. Roy quickly adjusted himself and knelt beside the bomb, waiting for the count.

‘On three. One. Two. Three!’ He cut the wires connecting the bomb to the explosive and for a second felt his stomach clench as it seems the bomb is going to blow. But then the display goes green and he can hear the relieved sighs on the coms. He grins to himself and looks up from the bomb, he’s in the industrial sector, gas tanks surrounding him, chemical plants to his right. Relief flows through him until he takes a breath and looks again. 

‘Wait, guys? How am I meant to get home? Guys?’

 

There’s a flash of yellow and Roy looks up to see a somewhat breathless Barry standing over him, offering his hand. Roy grabs it and pulls himself up.

‘Took your time for someone so fast.’ Roy muttered, dusting himself down.

Barry shrugged, ‘Sorry, wanted to get everyone else first. Ugh, wait, sorry that sounded wrong.’

‘Meh.’ Roy shrugged and then glanced up to find Barry looking at him strangely, ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ Barry coughed and turned away. Roy frowned and approached him, walking around until they were face to face. There was something un-readable in the speedster’s eyes as he reached up to pull his hood off, ruffling his hair back up. Roy stopped and licked his lips as they stared at each other. Then without really thinking he leant forward. Barry ducked his head back quickly and Roy paused, his half shut eyes flickering open.

‘Oh, sorry.’ Roy cursed himself and avoided Barry’s confused face, as the speedster looks at him, seeing the deep red blush rise up Roy’s neck to his face.

‘Uh, look, Roy. Why don’t I take you home? Or at least back to the…’

‘Arrowcave.’ Roy finished for him, ‘Yeah, that’d be great.’

Barry held his arms open and Roy frowned at him. ‘Come here, I need to hold onto you. Or…you can hold onto me. It’ll be quick and painless.’

Roy couldn’t suppress his laughter and it was Barry’s turn to flush. ‘If you say so, lightning.’ Roy moved closer again, this time biting on his lip as he looked up at the slightly taller man. He wrapped his arms around Barry’s chest and felt the rapid whoosh as Barry picked up his legs. In seconds they were outside the club and Roy felt that same breathless rush as before. He let go of Barry somewhat reluctantly and pulled back his hood and mask to get a better look at him, smudging his camo paint. 

‘Hey, thanks.’

‘No problem, Arsenal!’ With that he burst off through the deserted streets like a yellow lightning bolt. Roy watched him leave before frowning, feeling that someone was watching him. He turned slowly but everything was quiet, empty, the now darkened nightclub was closed and everyone had gone home. But there was still that niggling feeling, that primeval sense that raised the hairs on the back of his neck; someone, something was watching him. Roy grabbed his bow and quickly notched an arrow to it as he walked slowly towards the opposite side of the parking lot near an alley. The area was shrouded in darkness, the street lamps nearby broken. Roy licked his lips nervously, feeling his heart beat a little faster as he approached. He stopped, closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before dropping to one knee and rolling into the alley. He squinted, almost certain that there was someone running towards the far exit into the warren of back alleys that made up the industrial district. But it was hard to make out who it was, all he could see was a figure, black on black. 

‘Hmm.’ Roy was about to turn back towards the club when something gleaming caught his eye. He ventured a little deeper into the alley and stopped when he saw the blood red shaft of an unfamiliar arrow taped to the wall. He frowned again, concentrating on the strange, midnight black arrow head. He reached out to take it and it came loose easily, as though it was just waiting there for him. The head of the arrow was a complicated twirl of razor sharp metal, the craftsmanship flawless, almost too perfect. Roy felt his breath catch; he had another arrow just like this one. Sure they looked a little different, but this was definitely another of the Dragon Killers that Dr Wells had told him about. Roy glanced up at the now empty alley, something weird was going on, and someone at ARGUS was giving him access to their best weapons, at least for an archer. What was their game?

 

The morning after Barry, Caitlin and Cisco had gone home Diggle and Lyla called in on Roy and Oliver in the middle of their training regime. Roy welcomed the break, Oliver was being punishingly tough today, probably after being beaten by Barry the night before, even if he didn’t admit it. Diggle gestured to the older man and Roy nodded at Lyla.

‘Hey, uh, before you go, I was wondering if you could do me a favour, you know, since we pretty much saved your life.’ He glanced around to make sure they were alone, he didn’t want Oliver to overhear him.

‘Um, maybe. What is it?’

‘There was an agent, I used to know him.’

‘The one who knows his satellites?’

‘Yeah. He ah, he died, was killed actually, by the Flaming Star. You know them?’

‘Uh, kind of.’ Lyla hesitated, she knew the name, knew the group was the cover for removing active agents from the field. This was going to be tricky and she relaxed her face into a more neutral stance, watching Roy fidget, and his eyes downcast. 

‘His name was Kyle Westen, I don’t know if he had a code name, he never said, but he headed up the Starling City office, tactical and, ah what was it? Oh yeah, asset management.’

‘Oh, him.’

‘You knew him?’

She nodded non-committedly, ‘Yeah, sort of, we crossed paths.’ In Bialya, she added silently. Ironhide, Onslaught, as he preferred to be called, must be Westen, he was a young, but brilliant operative and the current head of black ops was indeed a former Starling City station chief. But he wasn’t dead, not by a long shot.

‘Well, it’s just, I never found out where he was buried, or you know. I just want to clear my conscience, I let him down enough when he was alive, I’d feel better giving him a proper farewell.’

‘Uh, I’ll see what I can do.’

Roy nodded. ‘Thanks, uh, can you keep this quiet. I don’t, Oliver...well, it’s complicated.’

‘Of course, if there’s one thing ARGUS has thought me, it’s discretion.’ 

 

On the other side of the room, Diggle and Oliver were discussing the same subject, although in an entirely different tone.

‘What? He’s still alive? You’re sure?’

‘Damn sure, Oliver. He was HQ, giving orders and leading the charge. Even saved my life before you got there.’

‘Fuck.’

Diggle frowned, ‘What is it?’

Oliver shrugged, not quite relieved, so Westen was alive? So Oliver hadn’t killed him, a weight from his shoulders for sure. And he didn’t feel the same level of guilt he had felt   
these past few months when he looked over at Roy talking to Lyla. But…if the agent was alive, did that mean he wanted revenge?

Oliver looked at Diggle, ‘He’s a big deal, I take it?’

‘Yeah, first time I saw him, Lyla was calling _him_ sir. Plus the Guardian Protocol? They were willing to let Harkness go to save one agent. Does that sound like ARGUS to you?’

‘Nope. So he is important. Well, let’s just hope he stays away.’

‘Huh? Shouldn’t we tell Roy? They were together, right?’

Oliver scowled, ‘No. He’s just got over Sarah’s death and hasn’t mentioned a word about Kyle in weeks, at least not by name. I see no need to bring it back up for him. Plus he deserves someone better than an ARGUS creep. Uh, no offensive.’

Diggle shrugged, ‘It’s ok, Oliver. But listen, we got to go, I just thought you should know.’

‘Yeah.’ Because it makes everything even more complicated. But…if Westen has kept quiet this long, maybe his death was a cover. Maybe he wants Roy to think he’s dead. Regardless of the future repercussions, Oliver felt his heart lift a little lighter. He waved Diggle and Lyla off and walked over to a rather subdued Roy.

‘Hey!’

‘Huh?’

Oliver just nodded at him and pulled him in close, hugging the younger man tightly. Breaking apart, Oliver let a smile play about his face as Roy stared at him in confusion; maybe he did beat Barry after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings us to the end of the crossover episodes. The next chapter should be up next week, and that's when things start to go really insane! Hope you enjoyed it :)


	9. Chapter 9

Roy waited by the weapon racks as Oliver paced up and down, waiting for Felicity to arrive, he tried to catch the archer’s eye, but Oliver just avoided his gaze. Roy didn’t understand it, but everything had been weird after last week, with Barry and ARGUS. At first Oliver had been warm and didn’t miss an opportunity to touch him, whether it was a pat on the back or holding his arm as he walked up the stairs. And then there were the smiles and the grins and the chuckles. And Roy would look at him strangely, only to have Oliver pull him close and hug him tightly. Honestly, Roy thought he could get used to it. But then one day it all stopped abruptly. He thought it was because Thea had seen them together and confronted Oliver when he got home. Because after that day Oliver had returned to his normal, restrained self and didn’t touch him any more than was needed. Roy wanted to show him that he had liked the attention, but he wasn’t sure how to do it. Well, it was more to do with the fact that Oliver always saw it coming and looked him in the eyes, so he’d just abandon the move and walk by or sit down. There was a heavy tension between them, but Roy didn’t understand it; nothing new had happened since then. But he did have those awful niggling thoughts when he lay in bed at three and four in the morning; what if Oliver had someone else? What if he and Barry had…? Sure, it was a bit insane to think of them together, but then Roy would go over all the moments they had spent together, in Central or Starling, and the fact they had more in common: lead heroes in each city. Plus there was Barry’s speed: he could be in Starling, have a quickie and still be back in Central in the time it took Roy to brush his teeth. Well it could be something else, but Roy didn’t know what. Something had obviously happened tonight though, Oliver had ceased his pacing and was leaning against the metal bench holding Sarah’s equipment. It was close by, not a shrine exactly, but more like relics to honour the fallen hero.

 

Roy looked back as Felicity came down the stairs. She seemed flustered, pulling off her gloves and throwing her coat over a chair. She glanced around at them, ‘Sorry for the delay, guys. Traffic is a nightmare out there.’ She sat down and swirled around to look at them, ‘Oliver? What’s the 911?’

‘Have Star Labs finished working on the sample from Sarah’s killer?’

‘Well, uh, Caitlin had it nearly complied when I spoke to her yesterday. It’s been tricky, with so little to work with.’

Oliver fumed and nodded at her, ‘Get on to her, we’re running out of time. In fact, we already have. We need Sarah's killer.’

Roy perked up and caught Oliver’s eye, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘The League are here, demanding justice, vengeance, for her murder. If we don’t find him they will start killing people.’

‘Huh?’ He frowned as Diggle straightened up. ‘How many?’

‘They didn’t specify. But it doesn’t matter, no innocent lives can be lost. We must find her killer. We have less than forty-eight hours, so, you know, hurry up Felicity.’

She nodded and began typing furiously as Oliver gestured for Roy to follow him away from the others. ‘I want you to try and track them down, but stay hidden. Even if they know you’re there, don’t give them the opportunity to strike. Just observe.’

Roy swallowed and nodded at Oliver, ‘Ok. Where do I start?’

Oliver reached back and grabbed a tablet, ‘I managed to place a tracker on one of them, start here. But, Roy?’

‘Yeah?’

‘…Uh, just keep in contact.’

Roy nodded, gazing up into Oliver’s eyes. There it was again, that strange sense of things unsaid, as if Oliver wanted to say something else, something more meaningful than a warning, but then it passes, and all Roy sees are the dark orbs filled with heavy concerns. He shrugs to himself as he pulls off his hoodie and zips up his armour, the leather malleable in his hands after months of constant use. The bow feels the same as it always has, fitting comfortably into his palm, the quiver strapped tightly to his back, reaching further into the case to grab his black camo paint. He feels Oliver watch him from his position beside Felicity as he smears the paint all around his eyes. Task complete, he takes the mask and adjusts it a little to fit across his face. He was ready.

 

Oliver watched Roy give them a small wave and head out the side exit, his thoughts lingering on what he had almost said. Sure, asking him to keep in radio contact was good, but Oliver had almost let ‘Be careful,’ slip out, in that caring tone he heard himself mutter at night whenever he thought about Roy alone in the city, or in some drinking den getting hammered out of his mind. And Oliver did worry, did want to stop Roy doing that to himself every few nights. But he also recognised the reasons behind it, knew all too well the deadly draw of the bottle, using it to block everything out. Still, he murmured to himself, it could be worse, there were plenty of drugs in this city, plenty of holes that Roy could fall into and never be able to climb out. 

Then there were the other times, the times Oliver didn’t enjoy thinking about afterwards. The moments when he wanted to take advantage of Roy’s drunkenness, to let the demons out of their box and just live on pure instinct; the most base of instincts. Because even though he had denied it for so long, still denied it, really, Oliver wanted Roy, wanted to…Well, he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do. He could imagine, but he wasn’t really sure what the mechanics of the thing involved. The first, and only, time he had thought to look it up, Thea had come home unexpectedly and surprised him. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, of course, he told himself that frequently, it was just if he understood how two men…well, even thinking about it in such abstract terms brought a blush to his cheeks. Oliver knew what he looked for in a woman, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was about Roy that attracted him. 

‘Oliver? Oliver?’

‘Huh?’

‘Caitlin replied, she’ll have the sample finished in about fifteen minutes or so. But she might need more time to reconstruct the degraded markers.’

‘Oh, good. Right.’

‘It’ll be okay Oliver, we’ll find the killer.’

Oliver stopped leaning against the desk and stretched his arms above his head, before glancing down and Felicity, ‘We better.’

 

Roy limped in several hours later to find them standing around Felicity’s computer station. He winced as he walked down the last of the stairs. Oliver glanced up at the sound, a worried frown quickly creasing his face.

‘Roy!’

‘I’m alright, just cut my leg trying to dodge the League. I’m sorry, Oliver. They made me from about a mile out. Guess they like using roofs too.’ He grinned weakly as Oliver helped him into a chair, and looked down at the bloodied rip in his pants. ‘It’s by the knee, damn drain pipe cut right in.’

‘Still, better than a League arrow.’

‘Yeah, it’s ok, I can handle it.’ He replied, taking the first aid kit from Diggle, ‘Any word on the sample?’

‘It’s coming in now!’ Felicity called out from behind Oliver. Roy nodded towards the console and Oliver reluctantly let him tend his own wounds as he went over to stand behind her.

‘Well?’

‘I’m running it through the SCPD database right now. Anyone arrested in the last three years has been registered. Hmm, what?’ She sounded shocked. ‘No. That…can’t be right. Let me double check.’

Roy finished wiping away the dried blood and quickly applied the plaster to his leg. He stood a little unsteadily, leaning gratefully on Oliver’s arm as he looked over at Felicity muttering to herself, while typing furiously on her other two monitors. He glanced up at Oliver and leaned a bit more than was necessary against the strong muscled torso of the older man, enjoying the feeling of his body and the heat that seemed to leak from his core. But Oliver’s eyes were fixed elsewhere and he spoke quickly, ‘What is it Felicity? What’s wrong?’

‘It can’t be! I don’t understand it Oliver. According to the DNA markers, Sarah’s killer, is you.’

Roy blinked in surprise and looked up at him as both Diggle and Felicity turned to gaze at him. For a moment, a tiny, pitch black moment, Roy believed it was true, believing that Oliver really could do such a thing, and lead them on for months. Such a betrayal, was it true? And then Roy shook his head, no it couldn’t be. Oliver wouldn’t have.

‘I don’t believe it, no way, Felicity, there has to be a mistake!’

‘I tripled checked, Roy. I isolated perspiration from the arrows that killed Sarah, and with Caitlin’s reconstruction, the sample matches Oliver’s DNA: twelve of thirteen markers.’

‘It’s a set up.’

‘Yeah.’ Oliver spoke for the first time in a few minutes, the initial shock turning to anger, ‘Someone who wants me to fight the League. Someone with a vested interest.’ He glanced around as Roy collapsed into the chair beside his suit rack. ‘Malcolm Merlyn.’ 

‘But, he was in Corto Maltease when she was killed.’

‘Unless he wasn’t. Let’s face it, he’s been able to hide successfully from the authorities and the League for the past two years, while moving freely around the world. He could have been here for less than a day and then disappeared back into the ether. He’s good at covering his tracks.’

Felicity nodded and cleared the screens, pulling up her surveillance archive data. ‘Ok, so we uncover them. It’ll take some time though.’

‘We don’t have long, in forty-two hours, the League will kill fifty people.’ He glanced at Roy, ‘Are you able to walk on that?’

He nodded, ‘Yeah. You need me on the streets?’

‘No, not yet. Wait here, and get changed. There’s a repair kit in the drawers under my work table.’

‘Great, thanks.’ Roy scowled and set to work on repairing the damage to his suit as Oliver watched Felicity switch dizzyingly from task to task on the screens.

 

Nothing. Hours had past and still nothing. Oliver’s frustration had been disturbing Felicity in ever increasing incriminates until she couldn’t take it anymore and banished him to the training dummies. He battled the imaginary foes as Felicity continued to research. Roy was about to join him, when he stopped by the desk.

‘Anything?’

‘Nothing yet. Same as when you last asked me twenty minutes ago.’

‘Ouch. Sorry.’ He paused, glancing over her data streams. He frowned, ‘Hey, uh, have you checked the ARGUS tracking systems? They monitor air traffic in and out of countries of interest.’

She looked up at him. ‘Uh, no, no I haven’t. Thanks?’

He shrugged, ‘It’s just…’

‘Something you’ve heard?’

He shrugged again, avoiding her questioning eyes. ‘Corto Maltease is on that list, right?’

‘Yeah. Ah! I’ve got something!’ She called out and Oliver dropped his staff as he came running.

‘What is it?’

‘Air traffic data from the days before Sarah’s murder. It’s was Roy’s idea.’ She added, pulling up the details of a charter jet’s flight plan. Oliver glanced over to Roy and patted him gently on the shoulder. ‘Woah. Here we go, Oliver. This looks a likely candidate. The flight path bounces all over the country.’

‘Someone was working hard to cover their tracks.’

‘Yeah, it landed at a small runway outside of town, the night before Sarah’s murder.’

‘Ok then, let’s go. You ready, Roy?’

He nodded and followed Oliver out.

 

Felicity shook her fingers out, they were numb after such constant typing. But it seemed they weren’t done yet. She groaned internally as Roy jogged down the stairs, holding out a USB drive.

‘More?’

‘Flash drive. Security footage from Merlyn’s flight.’ 

She nodded and felt them crowd around her as she pulled the files up. Oliver grunted as Merlyn appeared and then he felt the bottom fall out of his stomach as Thea walked calmly down the plane’s steps after him. Roy gasped a little and turned to look at Oliver. 

‘Well, wasn’t expecting that.’

‘No shit.’

 

‘She lied to me.’ Oliver looked surprised, shocked and Roy frowned at him a little. Sure, it had been unexpected to see her on the footage with Merlyn, but at the same time, she had disappeared and turned up exactly where Merlyn was last known to be. He pursed his lips as Diggle said aloud what they were all thinking.

‘Oliver, you have to consider that maybe it wasn’t your DNA on the arrows. It could be hers; you are siblings after all, there might be enough overlap, especially with the degradation.’

‘Are you even listening to yourself? Even if she did kill…Even if she could, why would she?’

‘Well, Malcolm Merlyn is her father. Murder runs in the genes.’ Roy couldn’t stop himself, and earned an equally betrayed and furious glare from Oliver.

‘You, you...damn it, Roy!’

‘What? It’s the truth, not to mention, your gene pool is not exactly murder free either.’

‘Just stop talking!’ Oliver turned away from them, ‘No, Thea couldn’t have done this, there must be another explanation.’

‘Oliver,’ Felicity spoke up as he turned back to face them, ‘I know this difficult, but the virtual autopsy I did on Sarah revealed that the arrow wounds were not consistent with an archer of average height. That’s why we thought Roy might be responsible.’

‘Gee, thanks Felicity,’ Roy thought as Oliver looked over at him, but he stayed quiet, letting Felicity finish.

‘…so it’s not impossible that it was Thea; she’s the right size, the shallow wounds might have been from initial hesitation-‘

‘Enough! I’m not listening to you two! Or you.’ He added, looking over at Roy, ‘It’s my DNA on the arrows because Merlyn is trying to get me killed. End of story.’ He stalked angrily away from them and Roy shrugged as he past. Felicity sighed as her phone buzzed. 

‘What? Uh, are you serious? No. I’m on my way.’

Roy turned to look at her as she mirrored Oliver’s movements towards the stairway. ‘What is it?’

‘Oh, nothing, just my stalkery boss who tracked me to the club.’

Roy pulled a face, ‘Ugh! Creepy!’

 

‘She jumped out the window?’

‘Yes, Roy. And yes, you were right, well, maybe. Something’s definitely going on with her.’

‘Not gonna say I told ya so.’ Roy muttered to himself as Oliver frowned at him, ‘So what now? We’re almost out of time, Oliver.’

‘I know. But despite what happened at the apartment, I still don’t believe that she killed Sarah.’

‘What it’s going to take to make you believe?’

‘This. Perhaps?’ They looked around to see Merlyn standing on the stairs behind them, the door ajar as music spilled over from the club upstairs. Oliver growled and reached for his weapons, as Diggle immediately pulled out his gun. Roy was slower to react, but he did grasp his bow in one hand and readied the other to quickly pull an arrow.

‘Now, now. As you can see I’m not armed, no bow, no daggers, no gun, just me.’

‘Yeah, reassuring. What do you want?’ Oliver snarled at him.

‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find out who it was. If I needed to lay some more breadcrumbs for you to follow. But, if your visit to Thea is any indication, you already know it was she who killed Sarah.’

‘I still don’t believe it.’

Merlyn smiled as he glanced at Diggle and Roy. ‘I know, everyone always needs proof. Here.’ He holds out a tablet and nods at Oliver. He lowers his bow reluctantly and takes the device, watching as the video plays on a loop: Thea woodenly approaching Sarah, bow pre-loaded and Oliver releases a gasp of horror as Thea robotically releases the string, reloads and fires again, the arrows twirling lazily across the space between the two women. Then, impact. And Thea walks away emotionlessly, zombie-like. Oliver slumps against the weapon rack as Roy moves forward to relieve him of his weapons. The younger man stops when he sees the video.

Roy frowns as he watches it, then glances up to Merlyn’s calculating eyes. ‘Why? Why would you do this? You don’t want her dead.’

‘No, but the League wants me dead. And now Thea. But Oliver,’ He nodded at the slumping figure, ‘Oliver won’t let that happen. You will go to the League, tell them you killed Sarah and demand the trial by combat. Killing Ra’s al Ghul meaning wiping out any remaining blood debts and vendettas, and I’ll be free again.’

Roy grimaced and helped Oliver back up. ‘But how? How did you control her?’

‘The power of suggestion, there’s a plant, grows in abundance in Corto Maltese. The victim recalls nothing they do, while following instructions perfectly. Trust me, Oliver, I’ve thought of everything. All you have to do is kill Ra’s and Thea will never know.’

‘You monster!’

‘You’ll do it though.’ Merlyn laughed as he turned away, ‘Better hurry, their deadline approaches.’

‘Yeah, I’ll do it!’ Oliver spat the words at Merlyn’s retreating back.

‘Oliver! No! There has to be another way.’ Roy grabbed him by the arm and pulled him around so their eyes met, if only for a second as Oliver turned away from him. ‘Come on, Oliver, at least bring me with you.’

‘I can’t Roy. I have to do this, for Thea.’

‘Damnit, Oliver!’ Roy released him and turned away, unwilling to speak to him anymore; the fight had vanished from his eyes. ‘If you fight Ra’s al Ghul, he’ll kill you.’

‘No he won’t.’

Roy rolled his eyes.

‘During the Undertaking, Merlyn told me I wouldn’t win because I didn’t know what I was fighting for. Now I know.’

‘Oliver…You’re fighting angry, that’s not going to be enough.’

‘I’m fighting for Thea, for my family. You’d understand that if you had any left!’

‘…’ Roy took a breath, as Felicity and Diggle exchanged glances. ‘That’s not fair Oliver, that’s too far.’ Emotion crept into his voice. ‘I thought we were a family. But we’re not going to be if you go over there and get yourself killed. Please Oliver! Stay for us. Stay for…stay for me.’ The last part was quiet but they all heard it.

‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry, Roy, but blood is stronger. I have to save my sister.’

Roy sniffed, his nostrils flaring as he gritted his teeth. ‘I, I…fuck Oliver…’

‘I have to go. Make the arrangements. Don’t worry,’ He added, seeing the looks on their faces, ‘the League is driven by honour, tradition and ritual. They won’t kill me here. And, yes, I have to go alone.’ He held up a hand as Diggle moved towards him. Roy dropped his eyes, unwilling to look at Oliver anymore.

‘We’ll be here.’ Felicity spoke for them all as she steered Roy into her chair. ‘You better come back Oliver.’

 

How? How could Oliver do this? How could he be so mean? Yeah, Thea was family, and family’s always been important to Oliver, but this? He’s abandoning the city, the team, him. Roy didn’t want to admit the hurt Oliver’s words had caused him, it was enough to hear Diggle and Felicity speak about him in low tones, enough to feel his eyes get blurry and the first of many silent tears roll down his face. He tried to wipe them away without the others noticing, but Felicity walked back over to him and held out a box of tissues for him. 

‘Thanks, allergies, you know?’

She nodded at him wordlessly and moved back towards Diggle to wait for Oliver’s return. In a moment of clarity amid the screaming in his mind, Roy glances up to see the tablet Merlyn left behind; the video of Thea still looping around. He was about to speak when he frowned, pausing the video and pulling down the options menu. He quickly looked behind him, to see Diggle comforting an emotional Felicity. Roy wetted his lips and sent the video file to his own email address, before covering his tracks. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever need it, but Oliver wasn’t the only one who cared for Thea. Merlyn had shown his hand by this plot, and while Roy might hesitate before using Thea as leverage, he never knew when he’d need an advantage against the master criminal. He finished his work and raised his voice.

‘Uh, hey guys? Do you think it’s such a good idea to leave Merlyn’s hardware around?’

‘Huh? Oh, of course.’ Felicity grabbed the tablet from Roy’s hand and busied herself with dismantling the device. Roy bit his lip, wondering if the last thing he said to Oliver was a stuttering mess.

 

Roy and Diggle watched in silence as Oliver put the last of his things into a canvas bag and rolled it up. Diggle made one last ditch attempt to persuade Oliver, but Roy ignored him, staring at the archer, willing him not to go, to stay, or at the very least to take him with him. But Oliver just shook his head and gave Diggle a firm handshake and hug. Felicity had left moments earlier, unable to look at him, unwilling to release him, before he smiled sadly at her, murmuring, ‘This is not a goodbye.’ She nodded at his words and ran out of the room, not wanting to be there anymore. And then Diggle left and Roy was alone with Oliver. 

‘Please, Oliver, please don’t leave me. You said you wouldn’t.’

Oliver bowed his head, ‘I remember. Anyone else, I wouldn’t. But this my sister, this is Thea. I have to go.’

Roy finally nodded and clenched his teeth tight enough that they ached. He let Oliver pull him close and buried his head in the warm embrace of the archer, holding on to him like he was the only person in the world, like this was the final goodbye, the last embrace. 

Oliver wrapped his arms around Roy’s body, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arms, feeling him quake in his embrace, the sounds of crying and hard, rough sobs wrecking his body. ‘Hey, hey, come on, Roy. I’m going to be ok. I’m going to be back, you’ll see. Come on, Roy. Please. Look at me.’

Roy raised his tear stained face and looked deep into Oliver’s eyes. There were no words left, nothing that could assuage him. But they were alone, so Roy reached up and cradled Oliver’s face in his hands, before moving forward, eyes closed and kissing him gently on the mouth. At first he could feel Oliver’s resistance, but then the archer seemed to realise how important this was, how much Roy felt for him, and returned the kiss, allowing Roy to deep it for a few minutes before pushing him back, letting his head rest against his shoulder again. Oliver pulled Roy tighter against him and rested one hand against his neck, gently stroking Roy’s hair, murmuring to him, ‘It’ll be ok, it’ll be ok…’

Roy felt Oliver pull away and he tightened his grasp even as Oliver gently but firmly disengaged from the hug. He stood back and lifted Roy’s smooth chin with his finger. ‘I will return.’ He kissed him once more, quickly on the lips, before grabbing his bag and walking away from him. Roy looks defeated afterwards, like he can’t stop Oliver from going, like he doesn’t want to realise that this could be the last time he sees him, holds him, touches him, so he avoids any further eye contact, even when Oliver glances back down to him at the top of the stairs. Instead he waits until Oliver leaves, watching the door shut behind him. 

‘I need a drink.’

He leaves then, too, not going to Verdant, but elsewhere, somewhere dark and strobe filled where men eye him up and college jocks buy him drinks until he’s moving on the dancefloor, out of it, letting the music wash over him and resting into the arms of some random dude. There’s a difference between fighting with anger and fighting with belief, no matter what he said, and that is why Oliver lost. Roy could feel it, even as he let the bass echo in his body, he knew Oliver would lose, he didn’t have to see the blade rip through his torso to know that.

 

Oliver thought he would win. He believed it, he had harnessed his hatred and his anger and his disgust of Ra’s al Ghul and fought with every ounce of skill he had. But it wasn’t enough. There was no pain; that was the strange thing, even as his hand moved down to hold the wound, blood flowing freely down his torso. He looked up as Ra’s pulled the blade out and kicked him over the edge, the sound of the sword being thrust into the rock echoing down to him as the snowy slopes came rushing up to meet him. Impact. The air rushed from his lungs as he felt darkness closing around, not feeling the powdery snow under him or the pumping of the blood as it slowly soaked into the ground around him. His eyes struggled to stay open and he cursed himself for taking the fight, for not making everything clearer with Roy, for not saying it, for not going for it, at least once, see what it was like… 

Regret, it echoed in his mind as his heart slowed to a shallow beat, he sighed one last time, the mist turning to ice crystals as it leapt from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of reflection & emotion in this chapter, but not as intense as I had hoped. Re-watching the episode made me realise how little Roy & Oliver interact, except for the scene with them discussing Thea and the hug. Still, I’ve written a good portion of the next few chapters, so there should be less downtime. This last week was very busy for me, so sorry for the lack of updates.


	10. Chapter 10

Roy couldn’t help but grin as he felt the roar of the powerful engine underneath him. He heard Felicity’s strained instructions in his ear and concentrated on the van in front of him. The police had broken off the chase a few blocks away when he had buzzed past them. One of the cruisers had the windshield riddled with holes while the other cruiser’s fender had been mangled after trying to escape the hail of bullets. Roy hunched lower over Oliver’s bike as he increased the speed, he had wanted to try the machine ever since Oliver showed it off to him. His own bike was pretty and sleek, but this one was so powerful and strong and masculine and hot…ok, maybe Roy was thinking more about the guy who used to ride it. 

Diggle stood up from his crouch and groaned as it felt the fabric of Oliver’s suit go taut over his bulkier frame. He struggled to hold the bow straight up and reached for an arrow from the quiver at his side. A sound from behind him made him turn and he gritted his teeth as the suit constricted further. The van sped underneath him and he aimed the bow gingerly as Roy followed through close behind. He released the arrow and watched as it thudded into the hood of the van. He sighed and notched another to the string.

‘I don’t know about this, Roy, uh, Arsenal, this thing’s so tight I can barely move!’

‘It’s ok, I got it!’ Roy called back as he sat up on the bike and quickly notched an arrow to his bow, releasing it as soon as it was ready. He reduced his speed a little as the explosive bolt struck the back of the van, blowing the doors off completely. Roy drove close enough to see the surprised faces of the robbers before he lassoes one of them. He slides to a stop and watches the van drive off even as Diggle fires another exploding bolt after it. The explosion misses the van, but rocks it enough for the criminal to smash through a barrier and keep going. Roy hears Diggle swear over the coms, but he just looks down at the thief he managed to capture. The man looks up at him and offers his wrists. Roy sighs as he dismounts, glancing back to see Diggle drop down from the bridge. He turns back to punch the man on the temple, knocking him cold before tying him up. Roy nods at Diggle.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah. Sorry about that. This suit is a lot tighter than it looks.’

‘Yeah. Well we better bug out. Cops are on their way.’ Roy nods his head at the approaching lights and sirens. Diggle nods and Roy climbs back on Oliver’s bike. ‘Felicity, we got one of them, the other escaped. We’re coming back now. Any,’ he paused for a second and then continued, ‘Any word from Oliver?’

‘No. Nothing. I would have said.’

‘Of course, I’ll see you in a bit.’

 

Roy hung up his suit and pulled his hoodie around his arms. It wasn’t cold exactly, but the warm fabric always brought him some comfort. It had been three days since Oliver left and even though no one had said anything, he felt it. Oliver…well he would’ve called if he was victorious, right? There was only two reasons he hadn’t called; either he had won and been badly wounded, or…well Roy didn’t like to acknowledge the other reason, even though he thought about it a lot. In everything but name of course, he didn’t want to be the one who said it first. Felicity had this brittleness about her that was reflected in the fact that every available screen had been converted to satellite feeds and communications intercepts. She had piggybacked onto every satellite in the region of Oliver’s fight. He wasn’t even sure where that was, just that it was snowy and on a mountaintop. Diggle, on the other hand, wasn’t much different from his usual self. He was quiet and restrained, but that seemed to help Felicity cope better. 

Roy walked over to the one screen that was being kept up for Starling City crimes. He frowned as news of the robbers spread over the police scanner. Sure, they had captured one of them, but what were the chances he’d roll on his buddy? Roy sighed as he ran a hand though his dark hair.

‘Oh, you’re back. I just stepped out, needed some coffee.’

‘Right.’ He replied as Felicity put the cup down beside her, ‘So, no word? No sighting? Nothing?’

‘No. But that doesn’t mean anything. I might not have the right area, or the fight might have moved, or Oliver could be inside…’

‘Felicity.’ Roy spoke gently, ‘it’s been three days, it might be time to-‘

‘To what? Send out a search party? To tell Thea that Oliver’s gone? What, Roy?’ She barked back at him, seeing his expression tighten, ‘No. No, I won’t give up hope!’

‘It might be time to, come on Felicity, Oliver would’ve called us, or sent a message or something. It’s time to accept it. Sure, bad news slows us down for a while, but hope like this, hoping he’ll come back, that’s just paralysing!’

‘No! I can’t accept that Roy. I won’t.’ She wiped her eyes angrily and looked down at her phone. ‘Damn, it’s later than I thought, I need to go to work.’

‘What? It’s past midnight!’ Roy looked at her incredulously as she got up and grabbed her coat.

‘Yeah, well, Ray has some odd hours.’ 

He watched her leave with a shake of her head and took her seat in front of the monitors. He didn’t want to go home yet.

 

Morning comes quickly and Roy wakes up to a steaming cup of coffee beside him. He raises his head and blinks quickly, not recognising where he is for a second. Then he realises: the Arrowcave. It came back to him quickly, Oliver being gone, the beeping of the servers must have woken him up, as Felicity nudged him to one side.

‘Did you spend the night? Coffee’s there if you want it.’

‘Ugh, thanks, my mouth feels like crap. Yeah, I guess fell asleep. I don’t remember when.’ He sat up properly and rubbed his sleep crusted eyes, moving over as Felicity checked the feeds. ‘Anything?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Great.’

‘Well, Diggle’s gone to see Lyla. She might have something. He said he was on his way back.’

Roy nodded silently as he took a sip of the hot drink, feeling its warmth spread rapidly down his chest to his stomach. He glanced at Felicity, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

‘Uh, I’m gonna have a shower.’

She didn’t reply so he stood up and wandered towards the little room in the back, the bed unmade and Oliver’s clothes heaped to one side. Roy stopped a moment to look at them, before grabbing a towel and heading for the tiny bathroom beside the bed. He quickly stripped and stepped into the hot stream of water, the steam billowing around him as he let it batter the back of his neck. He leant against one wall and just let the torrent flow over him. His hands wandered down his sculpted torso and lingered just below his naval. But his heart wasn’t it in. Even with his eyes closed and that last memory of him and Oliver together, nothing was happening. Because he just couldn’t escape the feeling that Oliver was gone, and never coming back. The feeling of emptiness in his heart and the clenching of his stomach made his hands come back up his body and wash his face and hair. The utilitarian things to do it the shower. He waited in there until he felt the water going cooler and shut it off with a snap. Opening his eyes to see the steam lingering in the room, a sort of fog as he stepped out and pulled the towel around himself. 

 

Roy could hear Diggle and Felicity speak as he finished getting dressed. He was about to exit when he heard his name.

‘…so how was Roy this morning?’

‘Oh, ok, I guess. I don’t know, John, I suppose it was a good day: he wasn’t hungover or still drunk, so you know, that’s a good day now.’

Roy frowned as he listened. He was never that bad, was he?

‘Do you think we should tell someone?’

‘No, Felicity, I mean it’s not as if he’s addicted.’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah, he drinks to get away from…whatever, but come on, in this job, the things we’ve done, things he’s done, I’d be drinking too if I didn’t have Lyla and young Sara to look after.’

‘I guess, and he is still a young guy. I don’t know, I just don’t want him get hurt.’

Roy sighed to himself and finished drying his hair. Yeah, maybe he did drink a lot, but Diggle was right, there was a lot he wanted to forget. Plus, he only did it at night, it wasn’t as if he needed a drink in the morning to get him going, like he’d read about online. No, it was the stress relief after a long day. But it didn’t matter now; Diggle was talking about Lyla. Roy dropped his dirty clothes and the towel in his bag and came back into the main room, ignoring Felicity’s abrupt pivot away from Diggle. 

‘Hey, Dig. Any word from ARGUS?’

‘No, Lyla tapped all her world-wide contacts, and even ran his profile through their newest satellite imaging software, but nothing. She offered to run it through the archives, but that could take weeks.’

‘Yeah, there’s no point, we’ll know by that time.’

‘Hey, Oliver’s probably fine.’

‘Yes, which is why we should focus on keeping everything here up and running.’ Felicity turned around to face them, ‘I’ve been trying to find the other thief from last night, and I think I’ve got it narrowed down to a gang that works out of the Glades. Run by this man,’ She pulled up a crime profile and they gathered around to look at it. Roy nodded.

‘Yeah, I know that guy: Danny Brickwell, street name’s Brick, but I thought he was in Iron Heights?’

‘Yup, until a week ago, when the case against him imploded. All the witnesses suffered fatal accidents and the police have our thieves as the chief suspects.’ Felicity pulled up the next slide and Roy nodded.

‘So they killed the witnesses, then rob a convenience store and shoot a cop. I get the first two, but why risk pulling so much attention? Hmm,’ Roy frowned as they looked at him, ‘I’m going out, hit up some of my old contacts, see what I can find out. See you later.’

He nodded at them and grabbed his jacket, avoiding their eyes and running up the stairs. He peeked out the door and snuck past the cleaning crew as they wiped up after last night’s crowd. Thea wasn’t here yet, she was probably worried about her brother, but Roy couldn’t stop a flare of anger erupting within him. Yes, Merlyn had been the one to control her, but still she was the one who could get Oliver to do anything to protect her. It wasn’t fair, Oliver was just beginning to loosen up around him. Another few weeks and they could’ve been together for real. But, no, he had to go get himself…well, it was still her fault.

 

The warehouse, Felicity managed to track Brick’s phone to, was a dead end. There was nothing there. Roy walked around a little as Diggle knelt beside a blackened barrel. Roy glanced down at the ground; there was blood, a lot of it. 

‘Someone was killed here. Beaten to dead by the looks of it. Probably the other suspect.’

‘Yeah,’ Diggle nodded as he stood up, ‘A body was burned in this barrel, his clothes too. And the burner phones in this other one. Damn, Brick sure covers his tracks well.’ 

Roy nodded and sighed. Was this it? Just a dried blood pool and lots of questions? He tried to think about what Oliver would do, but all he could come up with was that the archer would have a plan. He always did.

 

Diggle and Roy waited for Felicity near the bar in empty club. The older man had managed to salvage some burnt papers from the barrel where Brick had his men torch the evidence. She walked towards them and gestured towards the sealed door.

‘Ok, let’s see.’ She took the fragments from Diggle and frowned, ‘Hmm, schematics of some kind, as for these numbers? I don’t…’ She trailed off as they came to the door. It was ajar and Diggle reached instinctively for his gun. Roy tensed up but nodded for Felicity to open the door. 

‘Oliver?’ Her voice was hopeful, but Roy felt his stomach clench.

‘Wait. Something’s off. Be careful.’ He nodded for Diggle to take the lead and pulled Felicity behind him as they walked quietly down the stairs, Diggle in front as he swept the room with his gun. Roy followed, sharp eyes on the shadows as Felicity reached into her bag for the Mace she always carried. 

They stopped as Roy grunted a warning, ‘Merlyn.’

Diggle focused his gun on the man as he turned to face them, a cool smile on his face, ‘Please, put it away, gun’s don’t scare me.’

Diggle growled and pulled out his spare as Merlyn’s grin became wider and he held both hands up. Roy’s eyes darted around the room, and focused on his throwing darts close to hand, before flicking back up to concentrate on Merlyn. 

‘What do you want?’

He walked closer to them and rested on one of the metal benches, ‘I’ve only come here to talk. Would it be possible to do that?’

Diggle lowered his guns and glanced at Felicity’s tight lipped expression and Roy’s dispassionate face. ‘Talk about what.’

‘Oliver.’

Roy grabbed Felicity’s arm and gave it a quick squeeze to remind her that they’re speaking to Malcom Merlyn. ‘What do you know?’

He turns to face Roy and begins to talk. ‘Not much. Nothing in fact. I was…wondering if you had heard from him.’

‘He’s alive.’ Felicity’s response was instantaneous, but Roy made eye contact with Merlyn and gave an indistinct shrug. 

The man nodded, ‘It’s been days, if Oliver was alive he’d have made contact with you.’

‘He’s alive.’ Felicity’s tone was brittle and Roy pursed his lips as Merlyn walked closely beside him. ‘Prisoner maybe, but he’s alive.’

‘The Demon’s Head doesn’t take prisoners.’ Merlyn walked back up the stairs, slipping the other device into his pocket, unable to plant it in time. He grinned to himself even as his thoughts ran to the possibility that Oliver had failed. Yes, the Arrow had been defeated, but that still left Ra’s al Ghul’s blood debts intact. He had to be sure.

 

Roy glanced at Diggle and inclined his head at Felicity. ‘Hey, uh, Felicity?’

‘What? I’ve got the pattern recognition software running and we just need to-‘

‘No, listen. Hey! Why are acting like nothing’s happened?’ He was angry and Felicity just bustled around him like usual.

‘Merlyn didn’t tell us anything new, ok, so we should keep moving forward.’

‘What? Come on Felicity, even Merlyn, the guy who blackmailed Oliver into duelling Ra’s, thinks he’s not coming back! We have to face reality here!’

Felicity shook her head as Roy fumed and looked up to see Laurel walking down the stairs. ‘Ah, good. Did you get the ME’s report?’

‘Yes, it was definitely the guy’s partner, but...’ She trailed off on seeing Roy’s face. ‘What’s wrong? Where’s Oliver?’

Roy clenched his teeth and took a breath, speaking before Felicity could stop him, ‘He’s not here. Oliver…Oliver’s dead.’

The words hung there for a moment as Roy watched the flicker of emotions across the women’s faces before Felicity’s turned to rage and Laurel’s to shock. Roy kept his own face emotionless and added, ‘He went to fight Ra’s al Ghul, to protect…those he loves. It was necessary.’ The words come out of his mouth but he doesn’t really hear them, not in that cold, detached voice. He avoids their gaze, instead letting his eyes fix on the floor away from Laurel's feet. He can feel Diggle shifting uncomfortably behind him, Felicity’s furious glare and the utter desolation of Laurel as she slowly drops to sit on the stairs. He thought it would be worse to say it aloud, rather than avoid the thoughts that led to it. But it’s the truth, he felt it four days ago, drank it away and now it didn’t feel so bad to say aloud. 

Laurel looks back up at him and shakes her head, ‘No. No, I thought Oliver had died eight years ago and he came back. No matter who this al Ghul guy is, Oliver will return.’ She gets a supportive smile from Felicity but Roy just shakes his head, guess she needs that to be true.

‘Yeah, you keep believing that,’ he mutters as he brushes past them.


	11. Chapter 11

Felicity continues to scan the burned fragments of the papers they had recovered from Brick’s warehouse as Diggle and Roy looked over her shoulder. Laurel had left twenty minutes before and Roy had come back in after her. He didn’t look at the others and just sniffed into a tissue as the tears again threatened to break through. But this wasn’t the time or the place. Felicity was delicate enough without having him breakdown. No, he needed to present a strong face and help get them through this. If he busied himself enough he would be fine, right? 

He frowned at the magnified numbers, ‘What are they?’

‘They’re from some sort of catalogue, I’m not sure what.’ She added as he glanced to her, ‘They look familiar, though…’

The gentle thread of unfamiliar steps pricked Roy’s ears and he turned quickly to see Malcolm Merlyn standing in the shadows by the stairwell. Roy cleared his throat, ‘Uh, guys?’

Felicity and Diggle turned and stared at him, ‘I didn’t hear you come in. What do you want now?’

Merlyn moved closer to them, a strange expression on his face as he stopped just short of them. His hands were clasped behind his back as the three watched him carefully, ‘There is a place where the League carries out such rituals as the duel between challenger and the Master of Assassins. I went there,’ He paused sighing, before showing them what was behind his back. He placed the gore coated sword on the table beside him gently. ‘I found this, I’m sorry. Oliver, huh, the body, fell into a ravine, it’s unrecoverable, I’m afraid.’

Felicity looked at it, horrified, but quickly regained her composure as Roy sullenly glared at the sword. ‘I have to test it, you understand?’

Merlyn inclined his head and nodded. Felicity worked quickly and efficiently, not even entertaining the notion that the weapon was covered in Oliver’s blood, that this had cut through his…No, she focused on pushing the sample into the machine and running it against Oliver’s profile. Roy hadn’t moved since the sword had been placed on the table, but glancing up, Felicity noticed the seriousness of his face, the way his jaw had become more prominent in the minutes since Merlyn appeared with the apparent proof. She looked between them and felt her heart skip a beat as the computer beeped, indicating that it had finished running the sample. She walked over to it carefully and looked down. Roy heard the beeping just barely, the rushing of blood in his ears had drowned everything out, but he didn’t need to hear Felicity’s gasp, or the clatter of her chair falling over to confirm what he had known since Merlyn brought in the gore covered sword. Oliver…was dead.

‘It’s a trick, it has to be!’

‘It is no trick. Yes, I manipulated Oliver into challenging Ra’s al Ghul, but I will not benefit from Oliver’s death, quite the reverse. I have no reason to deceive you, and the blood is his. So you may continue believing that it’s a trick or a manipulation or some other illusion until the passage of time and Oliver continued absence finally convinces you that he is dead.’

Felicity sobbed then and fell into Diggle’s arms and Roy closes his eyes, noticing that Merlyn focuses on him, before disappearing when he flicks them open a few second later. Roy stares at the bloodied blade and finally feels something other than the cold emotion that had been filling his heart for so long. He feels his stomach cave, his legs turning to jelly and a roaring in his ears as he grits his teeth tight enough to crack, clutching the table nearby for support. He grips it tight, letting the metal dig into his palms, taking refuge in the pain it causes as he clamps down on that bubble of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him. He bows his head and listens to the eerie silence in the Arrowcave, glancing over to see Diggle just staring into space, while Felicity clutches his arms, her legs having gone weak, the tears streaming silently down her face. Roy bites his lips and straightens up, looking down to see his palms cut from the sharp edges of the table. Water blurs his eyes and he angrily wipes it away, as Felicity stands suddenly and pushes Diggle away from her, running out of the room. He watches her go, can feel the other man moving close to him, but he just brushes Diggle off, can’t stand to be near anyone else right now, can’t let his emotions break free. So Roy just shakes his head and walks away, leaving Diggle to stare at his retreating back.

 

An hour passes, although it feels like an eternity to Roy who just sits on the balcony above the empty club, watching the afternoon sun spill through the high windows onto the deserted dance floor. There’s a glass of amber liquid sitting in front of him, the sunlight refracted in the glass, and rainbows playing on the table in front of him. He hasn’t drunk it, hasn’t even taken a sip, just been staring at it for the last hour. He feels that if he starts drinking now, he’ll never be able to stop: he’ll never want to. But then it doesn’t matter, Oliver’s not coming back and Roy knows he can’t fill the void left by the Arrow, so takes up the glass, rolls the melting ice around and down it in one. 

There’s a little left in the glass and he picks it up again, lets the ice burn against his lips as he sucks the last of the alcohol down, hearing the sharp tacks of Thea’s heels come down the gantry towards him. He reaches for the nearby bottle and refills the glass as she stops to gaze thoughtfully at him. 

‘You know, that’s going to come out of your wages?’ Roy grunts, drinks again, ‘Are you ok, Roy?’

Roy pauses, looks up at her and then down at the half empty glass, ‘Yeah. I…I just got some bad news is all.’ 

‘Uh huh.’ She stares at him, never seen him so defeated and at the same time so deadly serious.

‘Not much point anymore.’ 

‘Uh…’ She pulls on his arm to get him up and pushes him back down the gantry, frowning as he reaches back to finish the glass. Concern was evident on her face; she thought she’d seen all the stages of drunk Roy; friendly, flirty, horny, and then sad, emotional and reckless at other times. But this was new, he’d obvious drank at least a quarter of the bottle, and she could smell the strong scent of the bourbon from his breath, but he still seemed sober, and clearly depressed. 

But then he rallied a bit and turned to her, ‘Forget about me, it doesn’t matter… How have you been?’ 

‘Oh, uh, well, to be honest I’m still worried, you know, about Oliver? I was going to ask you a favour, but…’

‘Depends, what is it?’ He mumbled as she led him towards the staff bathrooms.

‘You and the Arrow, you’re pretty close right?’

‘I thought we were,’ Roy thought, but aloud he shrugged and said ‘Yeah, you could say that.’ 

‘So it’s you I’ve been seeing on the news, in the red suit?’ She grinned at him, ‘Those pants look tight!’

Roy grimaces and nods reluctantly, ‘Thea, I…’

‘Look, Roy, I wouldn’t ask you this, but Oliver been gone for days, and no one seems to know where he went, he's not answering my calls or texts or anything. Can you, can you ask the Arrow to, I don’t know, investigate?’

Roy sighed and turned away from her before nodding reluctantly, ‘Yeah, I’ll ask him. It might take some time, though. We’re kinda busy.’

‘Oh, well, whatever you can do, would be great.’

Roy hesitates a moment before nodding, seeing the hope in her eyes makes him want to cringe and run away, but he holds his nerve, licks his lips and gestures towards the bathroom, ‘I’ll, uh, get cleaned up and check on our stocks.’ 

Thea pats him on the shoulder as she goes, ‘I’m sorry about your friend, you were close?’

‘Yeah.’ He glances back to see her eyes widen and realises he said it with a little too much emotion, ‘You, uh, you don’t know him.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Roy. Do you need any time?’

‘No, no, I need to keep busy,’ He gritted his teeth and nodded behind him, ‘I better-‘

‘Yeah, of course.’

 

Roy walks back down to the Arrowcave, seeing Diggle continuing to work on their case. He took a breath and nodded at him when he looked up, ‘Uh, Thea just asked me about Oliver, about asking the Arrow to help find him.’

‘What did you say?’

‘That I’d try, she doesn’t need to know, right?’

‘What? You think we should just let her think Oliver wandered off?’

‘Come on, Diggle, telling her that Oliver is, was, the Arrow will only reinforce her belief that he lied to her for over three years.’

‘But he did lie to her. Look, Roy I know you and Thea have a history, but-‘

‘That history is dead.’ He shot back, furious, ‘This has nothing to do with protecting her; Oliver already gave up his life to try to save her. I can’t…’

Diggle stared at him, ‘You’re angry.’

‘Damn right I’m angry, he left us alone!’

‘Us, or you?’

Roy glared at him, ‘We’re not telling Thea, not yet. Oliver never wanted her to know, and she won’t. Anyway, what have you found?’

Diggle paused, wondering if he should push, but Roy just looked angry and he let the whole thing drop. ‘Ok, well, are sure you want to continue with this?’

‘Yeah, Oliver’s gone, but we’re still here, and I don’t know, Dig, but I’ve got this bad feeling about this whole thing with Brick. Look, if you want out, at least let’s finish this last case.’

Diggle nods, ‘Yeah, of course. For Oliver.’

Roy agrees silently and points to the screen, ‘Have you figured out what the numbers are for? Felicity said it was some sort of catalogue.’

Diggle stared at the numbers, frowning, ‘They look so familiar, I…Wait!’ He turns to one of the other screens and brings up the case file history from SCPD, ‘Yes, here, look.’ Roy looks over the console and his mind joins the dots.

‘So it’s a case number match?’

‘Yeah, take a look at all these.’ He gestures to the screen and Roy bends down to examine it. 

‘Hmm, assault, GBH, battery, murder, attempted murder, huh, they’re street enforcers, all from Brick’s patch or close to it. So why would he have a file for these guys? They’re all awaiting trial, oh.’

‘What?’

‘Well, what do you need to ensure they go to jail?’ Diggle shrugged, ‘Evidence, witnesses, a case. No way Brick could get to every witness, but the evidence? That’s stored in a central lockup, right?’

‘Uh, I don’t know. I’ll ring Felicity.’ Roy nodded and walked over to inspect his suit, glancing up to where Oliver’s used to hang, well it still hung there, but Oliver’s wouldn’t be putting it on again. He sighed and rested his head against the cool glass as Diggle grunted with frustration. ‘I’m not getting an answer.’

‘Try again.’

 

‘What?’ Felicity was upset, her voice almost consumed by sobs as she finally answered her phone. She could hear both Diggle and Roy talking in the background and struggled to hear them, ‘Sorry?’

‘We figured out what Brick wants. The numbers and schematics are from the police’s evidence lock-up. We think he’s going after the evidence for a load of street enforcers; he’s going to destroy it or tamper with it or…’

‘Break the chain of custody.’ Diggle broke in, ‘and get the cases thrown out.’

‘Ok, ok, I’ll call Lance.’

‘Uh, Felicity,’ it was Roy, his tone careful, ‘Will you come back, please, we need you. These guys, they’re all the ones we’ve taken down since Slade, these last eight months, it’s everything Oliver has worked for.’

‘I’m on my way.’ She hung and closed her eyes as the lift doors shut behind her, that last conversation with Ray echoing in her mind.

 

They were too late. By the time Roy and Diggle had infiltrated the compound, Brick and his men had half the truck loaded with evidence boxes. Roy swore to himself and gestured for Diggle to take the flank while he made for the truck itself. If they could take out the drivers then maybe they could stop Brick. He crouched down as one of the men ran past, sticking out his bow at shin height and sending him crashing into a wall of evidence boxes. Roy moved in but dived out of the way when another thug rounded the corner and opened fire on him. Shreds of cardboard and shell casings rained around him and Roy waited for the man to reload before darting out and shooting him in the shoulder with an arrow. But by then he could hear Brick shouting for a retreat. Roy swore again and ran towards the roaring engine of the truck, darting around thugs and taking them out whenever he could get a shot. They were heavily armed and he could hear Felicity shouting instructions at him.

‘Get down! Roy, there’s three coming for you! Diggle, watch out! It’s Brick!’ 

Roy dived behind a forklift as bullets pinged around him. He kept his head down and shouted into the mike, ‘Options, Felicity? I can’t move!’

‘I don’t…I, I…’

‘Damnit!’ Roy popped up and released an arrow, watching it zip across the room and thud into one of the shooters. He dived down again as bullets flew overhead, putting his hand to his shoulder, where one of them had grazed past. ‘Felicity?!’

The roar of gunfire was all around him and he gritted his teeth in pain, he could hear the distinctive recoil of Diggle’s guns echo behind him. ‘Felicity, we’re out-numbered and outgunned, where’s Lance?’

‘They’re on their way, five minutes.’

‘We don’t have five minutes!’ He looked to his right and quickly fired off an arrow catching the thug square in the chest, his gun sliding away from him, ‘Damnit, I’m being flanked. Where’s Diggle?’

‘He’s…oh no, he’s taking on Brick. The truck is leaving Roy!’

‘Fuck. Ok, I’m on it!’

‘What! No, I didn’t mean…’

Roy ignored her as he dove out of cover and rapidly threw two of his darts at the oncoming thugs, dodging around them as their guns spewed bullets in all directions, He ran towards the exit, glancing over at Diggle and then towards the truck. He bit his lip before reaching for a flashbang arrow and muttering into the coms, ‘Incoming Dig!’ He released it and closed his eyes, the brilliant white of the arrow as it exploded flashing against his lids. Diggle muttered a thanks as Brick screamed in agony and let two of his goons haul him away. Roy crouched beside a badly beaten up Diggle, but the man pushed himself up and reloaded his guns.

‘Come on, Roy, we can still get them!’

The two of them ran towards the exit, but a clatter of metal reverberated around the warehouse as an emergency shutter rattled down, preventing them from chasing the truck. Roy punched the metal and Diggle swore loudly, watching through the slats as Brick’s truck disappeared into the night.

‘SCPD will be on site in a minute, guys, better get out.’

‘Yeah, got it Felicity. They, uh, they got away.’

 

Roy led the way down the stairs as Felicity looked towards them, first aid kit at the ready. She winced on seeing Diggle’s beaten up face and pointed towards a chair. Roy put down his bow and rubbed his temples, he could feel a headache coming on. The fact that they had failed wasn't helping his mood. ‘If that door hadn’t shut we would have had them!’

‘Yeah, but I guess that’s just our bad luck again.’ Diggle sighed and then frowned at Felicity, ‘unless it wasn’t?’

She avoided his eyes and gently bandaged his cuts. ‘I did what I had to.’

‘What?’ Roy was furious, ‘You let them go?’

‘They had machine guns, you had a bow and arrows. I wasn’t going to watch you die!’

‘That’s not your call to make, Felicity! Would you have done that if Oliver was here? No, I didn’t think so.’ Roy answers his own question as Felicity shakes her head at him. ‘Damn it, Felicity, you put Oliver up on a pedestal think the rest of us can’t do what he can?’ ‘

‘No, Roy, you can’t! They were going to kill you guys, I wasn’t going to lose anyone else!’

‘Ok, Felicity, Roy.’ Diggle intervenes, ‘if we’re going to do this without Oliver, we need to be able to trust each other.’ 

‘No, you don’t get it, we can’t do it without him, there is no this: we’re done. I’m done.’ She turns from them and walks away, up the steps. 

Diggle swore silently and turns to Roy, ‘What now?’ 

‘Go, home, Diggle. She’s right, without Oliver, we’re pretty much broken.’ John looks at him and sighs before following Felicity up the stairs. Roy stops however, and glances over at the green suit and then to his own bow. Maybe…

 

There was a clang as the door opened and Roy turned to look up as Laurel came down the stairs. She paused when she saw it was just him, ‘Where are the others?’

‘Gone. And so is Oliver; he’s not coming back.’ Roy looked at his feet and Laurel seemed to sense the despair around him. She walked over and hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder.

‘Are you?’

‘I don’t know, Felicity and Diggle, well they have people in their lives they need to think of. It’s a big risk for them to continue on. But going alone…well, Oliver pulled us together and he’s dead. So I don’t, I…’ He sighed.

‘And the enforcers? They’ve all been released, what do you, what we do?’

‘I don’t know, there’s too many of them and I’ve got no support. It’s over, let the cops handle it.’ He turned to leave, still dressed in his armour and Laurel looked at him.

‘Roy?’

He paused at the door, glanced down at her, ‘I need to think, maybe I can get Diggle back in, but, I don’t know, it’s not as if there’s anyone else we can call on.’

She watched him close the door, alone in the basement, surrounded by the vigilante’s tools of the trade. She walked over to where they had kept her sister’s things, a sort of shrine or monument to their fallen comrade. As she ran her hands over the weapons and mask, an idea came to her. She looked up at the empty case where Roy’s suit had hung, seeing the weapon shelves emptied and the quivers of arrows normally full, completely void. Maybe he was gone for good, or had he decided to go it alone? A one man army against a whole host of thugs and murderers and criminals?

 

Roy sat outside the warehouse in the glades, whispers had come to him about a meeting for Brick’s newest members and he had watched them come in, counting and photographing each one until they were all in there. Taking one of Oliver’s expensive listening darts he expertly launched it into the wall just above the truck filled with evidence. He listened to the boss speak and frowned at his plan. Then it broke up, with the criminals scattering quickly. He followed two targets to their car, notching a flashbang arrow to his bow, drawing it back. But before he could release it, a high pitched screeching filled his ears and he ducked down behind the parapet, glancing up when he heard talking. He stared; it looked like the Canary, but Sarah was dead, did that mean…

‘I’m the justice you can’t run from!’

‘Ugh, seriously, Laurel?’


	12. Chapter 12

Oliver gently cradles Roy head in his hands, looking at the perfect symmetry of the younger man’s face, leaning in to press their foreheads together, breathing in his soft subtle scent and relishing that perfect hint of aftershave on his clean shaven cheeks. He could feel Roy grip him tight, his body hard against his own, that feeling of closeness so much more important than anything else. Oliver holds him tighter, feeling Roy drifting away, unstoppable, until Oliver lifts his head and looks at his beautiful boyfriend, but then something happens, he squeezes too tight and Roy disappears, vanishing into a pile of dust.

Oliver awakes with a start, blinking tears from his eyes. The dream had seemed so real, so close. It was almost as if he could feel Roy in his arms that one last time. But no, it wasn’t real, he leant back down and stared up at the wooden roof beams wondering where Roy was and wishing so hard that he was here, Oliver closed his eyes again, the lost whisper slipping from his lips, ‘I love you…’

 

Meanwhile in Starling, Laurel is (sometimes) kicking ass and protecting women in the shithole that is the Glades. She raided the supplies at the Arrowcave after her first mission, flushed with excitement at her success. Unfortunately for her, the subsequent missions had been tougher. She was normally ok if she had surprise on her side, but if not, well, she had got really good at dodging.

Laurel felt the anger flare within her as she followed the panicked screams of the woman into the deserted square. She nodded for the woman to run and turned to face the lowlife who had been watching her. She managed to attack first, trading in his arrogance for a quick blow to his ribs. But he quickly pulled out a knife and advanced towards her, grin pulling his scarred face to one side as she nervously glanced between him and the knife. Laurel hisses as her initial attack fails and he swipes her across her arm, and groans in pain as he advances, pushing her against the wall. The man hesitates for a second, only to gloat, the knife pulled back for the plunge, as she struggles against his grip, concentration divided between him and her aching arm. 

But then Roy releases his arrow with precision and the knife spins away into the darkness. A quick drop from the roof top and he rolls up to deal with the man, a swift kick it the  
stomach winds him and Roy finishes with a sharp crack of his bow over the man’s head. He pauses, looks up at Laurel and glares at her, furious. 

Three nights he had been following her, three nights he had watched emotionlessly as she dealt with petty thefts and dangerous men. There were moments where she had almost lost control and he had readied himself to intervene, but somehow she always managed to free herself. Until tonight. As usual he followed her along the rooftops, unseen from her street level, noticing her lack of awareness, her over-confident swagger and almost laughable one liners. What did she think this was, a game? A stupid kid’s movie where the hero never fails? Yeah, right, because the hero had fallen. Oliver was gone and it was only him now. Diggle sometimes, but even he had given up after a while. Oliver’s death had hit the bodyguard hard. Roy tried not to think about that, a small part of him hoping that one day Oliver would come back into the Arrowcave and everything would go back to the way it was. But that was just a dream. The sad reality was that without Diggle or Felicity’s help, Roy was out-numbered, out-gunned and out of ideas. Even his mysterious benefactor at ARGUS had been out of the picture for a while. But now as he looked up from the prone figure, he guessed it was time to show some leadership. Laurel might be older than him, she might have been Oliver’s lover for years, but she sure as hell wasn’t Black Canary! 

 

He led her down into the Arrowcave and gestured towards the metal table near Oliver’s suit. She walked over, keeping her hand pressed firmly to her wound. Roy reached for the first aid kit and nodded to her.

‘Take your vest off. I need to clean that wound and sow it up.’ She stared at him until he raised a brow, ‘What? I’m not interested in you. Hurry up before you bleed all over the place.’

She looked away from him and slowly pulled the tight fitting leather off her body, not quite stifling the moan of pain as the fabric moved over the wound. Roy frowned at it and took the antiseptic wipes in one hand as he gently prodded the wound.

‘Ow!’

‘Yeah, well, this is going to hurt. A lot.’

‘Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired.’ She muttered, earning another glare from him.

‘Yeah? So do your combat, stealth and awareness skills.’ He shot back, as he cleaned the last of the blood away. He picked up the needle and thread and glanced up at her horrified expression. ‘Look, I can do this now, or you can go to the hospital and try explaining it to daddy dearest.’

She glared at him but nodded.

‘Good. Now this will really hurt.’

She tried to keep her pain silent but as Roy worked she was forced to look away and clasp her hands together. She wasn’t sure if it was the pain in her shoulder or the ice cold fury in his eyes that made her turn from him. He didn’t look or sound like the old Roy, Oliver’s death must really be affecting him. He finished the stitching and nodded at her wordlessly, before turning away, putting everything back in the box and walking over to the sink to clean his bloodied hands.

Laurel rubbed her hands over the bandage, feeling a twinge of pain, but the wound was better dressed than she could have managed alone. She looked up to find his cold, grim eyes on her again.

‘So, what the hell do you think you’re doing out there?’

‘The same thing as you.’

‘Huh, hardly.’ He dismissed her words, ‘I’ve had training, from Oliver. And years on the streets, learning things you can never get in a gym or from a book. Your instincts are weak, you lack awareness of where you are and where everything else is.’ He shook his head, ‘You should be thankful I’ve been watching out for you.’

‘Wait, what? I haven’t seen you.’

‘Exactly.’ He took a breath and looked away from her, ‘Look, I understand, even if you don’t think I could. But this isn’t the way to deal with your grief. It’ll just get you hurt. You can only draw on your rage for so long before it burns out and you get yourself or someone else killed.’ 

She got up from the desk and shook her head defiantly, ‘You’re wrong, and I have something on my side that you don’t: fear. They fear the Canary, just like Oliver, just like they feared the Arrow.’ She saw his mouth harden into a line and realised she had finally done it. She talked about Oliver in the past tense. Closing her eyes for second she detected a barely audible grating on the edge of her hearing. She opened her eyes to see his jaw clamped shut, the edges of his face clearly defined as his teeth ground.

‘No, Laurel, they don’t fear you. They fear your sister. And she’s not here.’ She glared at him again and turned around, grabbing her jacket. ‘You continue like this, well, it’s a sure way to join her.’ She stopped for a second at the harshness in his words before running up the stairs, pushing past Diggle as he came down, ignoring his calls to her.

Roy slumped back down against the table and glanced up to acknowledge Diggle. 

 

‘Ray Palmer and this techno suit of his. What do we know about it?’

‘Not much, intel is sketchy at best, but-‘

‘Well, what about you, Onslaught, you seem to have a handle on this sort of thing?’

‘Um, not exactly.’ He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. The room was full of shadows, the faces surrounding him were shrouded in darkness. It was like something out of a bad spy film, but he guessed the people here really didn’t want to know each other. ‘You could say I’m more of a recent expert on this type of technology.’

‘Oh great, a jack of all trades and master of none?’ The snide voice made his skin crawl, but he ignored the pull in his stomach and continued on.

‘The Exo-suit, Project ATOM, the Advanced Technology Operating Mechanism, to be precise, is a weaponised variant of our advanced combat armour, designed in secret by Star Labs over ten years ago, and planned to be manufactured by a division of Queen Consolidated. As most of you are aware, our…disagreements with Dr Wells resulted in the curtailment of our relationship with his company. After the project was shelved we were assured that all data had been scrubbed from QC’s servers. While our intelligence does not indicate where Palmer got his ideas for the suit, we cannot rule out a leak, or security breach. This type of weapon will severely destabilise our efforts to restore balance to Starling City in particular and the rest of our nation as a whole. I move for immediate and proportionate action against this threat!’ 

There was an outburst from his right and another, countering him from across the table. He hid his grin in the shadows around him as they fought with each other over his suggestion. Giving in to the gnawing desire in his stomach he clenched his fist under the table, feeling icy cold wrap around it, the unseen energy drawn from his core. The sensations were getting stronger every day, but so too was his control. That last test had proved to him that he was ready to try the manipulation experiment again. A sudden lull in the argument forced him to release the pent up energy, feeling it dissipate around his legs. 

‘Problems?’

‘News just in from our agents in Starling City, the gang leader known as Brick attacked the mayor’s office. Three dead. Multiple hostages; aldermen, the mayor was secured and several high ranking public officials were on site.’

‘Palmer was there?’

‘Yes, no suit though.’

‘This will only encourage him.’ He glanced around the table, not needing to see their faces to sense the range of emotions; fear, rage, eagerness. ‘We need to strike now.’

‘No. We wait. If this weapon of yours is the ultimate counter, as you promised, then we have nothing to fear.’

Onslaught stood up, ‘If you insist, sir.’ The last word was an afterthought, barely concealed resentment in his voice. 

‘This meeting isn’t over, Onsl-‘

‘I have other business.’ He walked away, pausing to add, ‘Black Ops never rests, sir. I must make alternatives ready for Waller.’

'Fine. Go.'

Pompous fools, the Atom suit could ruin everything, but he had an agent in place to deal with Palmer, unwilling, unaware perhaps, but all it would take was a little manipulation, a little jealousy to steer him in the right direction. Yes, Onslaught reflected as he walked down the non-descript hallway, everything could work out exactly as he had planned.

 

Roy follows Merlyn, knowing he’s heading for Thea’s apartment, knowing he’s likely already seen him. But Roy goes after him anyway. Some part of him still feels responsible for her, guilty, perhaps for what happened. But as he’s following Merlyn wherever he goes, some part of him finds that he’s strangely attracted to the man. Not physically, not sexually, but there’s something so intriguing about a man who was willing and capable of destroying an entire city to avenge his wife’s murder. So when Merlyn turns around to find him standing in Thea’s empty apartment, Roy can’t help but be drawn towards him, even if his words start out confrontational.

‘You need to stay away from her. I’m not letting her leave with you!’

Merlyn laughed, musical tones, so different from what Roy expected. ‘Hahaha, thank you Mr Harper, I needed a good laugh today.’ He turned from the window to stand face to face with the younger man, his eyes gleaming as they met.

‘You’re poison, you lied to her, manipulated her to save yourself, you changed her. You had no problem putting her in Ra's al Ghul’s crosshairs, for fuck’s sake, you made her kill Sarah!’ He could feel himself losing control in the face of Merlyn’s emotionless expression, the little smirk that appeared when Roy mentioned Sarah caused his hands to curl into fists. Merlyn grinned openly as he looked down.

‘Thea knows nothing about Sarah. And you’ll keep it that, if you care about her.’

Roy smouldered, but couldn’t resist running his eyes up and down Merlyn’s body as he leaned in to whisper to him.

‘This is a family matter, Mr Harper. And you are not family.’ Merlyn leaned back out and turned away, but Roy wasn’t finished. He grabbed the man’s arm and forced him to stop.

‘Hey! You think I care about her? Yeah, you’re right, I do, because she’s Oliver’s sister, but your manipulation of her caused his death. And I know you care about her, somewhere deep and dark and hidden in that black soul of yours. She’s all you’ve got left. So please leave her alone, because like you, I won’t hesitate in using her to destroy my enemies.’

Merlyn frowned, looking down into the deep, intense eyes of the young archer. There was anger mixed with pain there for sure, but those emotions were drowned out by the steely gaze that looked at him. Merlyn pulled his arm loose and nodded sharply before walking past Harper. He shrugged to himself as he walked down the stairs; clearly he had underestimated the young man. A mistake he would not make again. And yet…That gaze, it reminded him of his own ironclad convictions so many years ago. The willingness to do something terrible to avenge the ones you love. He would clearly have to re-direct Mr Harper’s vengeance, but he could prove useful. Maybe more than that, with Oliver’s death the young archer could become a…partner? The word was unfamiliar and Merlyn pondered the decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my plan for the next few chapters is to have them relatively short (2-3000 words) and upload them in quick succession in order to catch back up with the series.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming OOC Roy with a mean streak a mile wide! Very enjoyable to write, but not sustainable with his own perception as the ‘good guy’.

Roy arrived back at the Arrowcave to find Laurel already waiting for him. He nodded at her and she followed him in. He didn’t like this, resented working with her at all, but there was no way he could deal with Brick and his enforcers alone. If nothing else she’d be good at distracting them. He suited up quickly as she disappeared to pull the leathers on. Roy finished tying the straps and tightening the buckles, feeling her eyes on him.

‘Got a good enough eyeful?’ He asked, watching her blush and look away, he snorted and gestured to the weapon racks near him. ‘Are you sure you want that staff? We’ve got other weapons. Guns too, if you want?’

‘No, this is my, Canary’s weapon.’

He shrugged and reached for his camouflage paint. Footsteps on the stairs made him look up, hoping for Felicity, but seeing Diggle. A somewhat irritated and annoyed Diggle.

‘What the hell, Roy? I thought we were on the same page with this? With her?’ He gestured at Laurel, as Roy brushed past her.

‘Yeah, we were, until Brick stormed city hall and took a bunch of hostages. Laurel says she knows where they are. I entered the data into Felicity’s surveillance software and we’ve got a hit.’ He looked to Diggle as he pulled out his gun.

‘Fine, but I’m going with you.’

‘Good, I’ll need you to cover the exits.’

‘Roy…’

The archer glanced at Laurel and then lowered his voice, ‘Look, Diggle, you cover our rear, she distracts them and I get the hostages out. If we’re lucky, Laurel will get that this isn’t a game, that she’s not cut out for this shit, and she’ll go home.’

Diggle stared at him, ‘What if she dies Roy? Gets overrun by Brick’s men? Or captured?’

Roy gave a shrug, his eyes cold and hard, ‘Well then, our problem will have taken care of itself.’

Diggle frowned at him as he turned away; mirakuru pumped, rage filled Roy had been threatening, normal Roy was moody, at times violent, but this guy? He was straight up scary. Diggle had seen a lot of nut-jobs and crazies, but the coldness in Roy’s eyes, the firm edge to his voice, the ruthlessness of his plan, he was becoming worse than any villain they’d faced yet. Maybe Oliver’s death had finally cracked the shell.

Laurel turned to go and Diggle called out to her. ‘Laurel? Maybe you should stay here and man the coms.’

She snorted, ‘No. That’s not how this is going to go.’

Diggle let out an exasperated sigh, ‘Do you have a death wish? You are not your sister!’

‘I know. But I’m doing this, and Roy clearly needs me, so we’re going.’ She turned away from them and ran up the stairs. Roy hid his smirk and went to follow her when Diggle’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

‘Listen Roy, you might not like her, or what she had with Oliver, but he cared about her. So if you do…if you did care for him, then you’ll look after her. At least, keep her alive, you owe him that much. I’ll wait here and watch your backs. If you don’t intercept them, I’ll meet you at their hideout.’

Roy glared at him and pulled his arm out of the firm grip. He nodded reluctantly and followed Laurel up the stairs. Diggle sighed, muttering to himself, ‘I got a baaaad feeling about this one.’

 

Roy waited until the van was in sight and gave a curt nod to Laurel across from him. ‘Be ready,’ he muttered to her. He pulled out an explosive arrow and closed his eyes for a second, feeling his surroundings and centring himself as he drew back the bow string. The low sound of the van’s engines entered his range and he opened his eyes, releasing the bow string. The arrow exploded in a shower of sparks as it impacted on the hood of the van. Another arrow whizzed over the driver’s side and exploded the glass. He gestured to Laurel and watched as she jumped down onto the van’s roof. He sighed when she fumbled the landing, her feet slipping on the slick metal. He glanced down as a yell came from the lead car. 

Brick emerged with a sub-machine gun and Roy cursed as the man opened up, bullets spraying his defenceless position. He jumped and twirled his way over the crates and dived behind one, arm clutched to his chest. It was just a shallow wound but he winced as his fingers slipped in the blood. Laurel meanwhile had blown open the van doors as was about to free the prisoners. Roy gritted his teeth and stood up as her surprised cry of pain reached his ears. He dived out to see her tossed aside like a ragdoll, and Brick grabbing the hostage. Roy swore again and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He aimed quickly and released, grinning in triumph as the arrow thudded dully into Brick’s chest, right at his heart. But instead of keeling over, the thug just smiled his shark grin at the surprised archer and pulled the arrow out.

‘Bad choice, son. This one’s on you.’ He grabbed the nearest hostage and shot him in the head, letting his lifeless body roll out of the van.

‘No! Damn it! Fuck!’ Roy swore as he watched them get away. Then he turned on Laurel, his rage evident on his face. ‘What the hell? I told you, you’re not trained for this, you’re just a liability!’ Laurel stared at him, for the first time actually scared of him. He shook his bow threateningly under her nose. ‘Goddamnit! I should just-‘

‘Roy!’ Diggle’s voice was loud in their ears, and Laurel looked away for a second as the sirens wailed up the street. When she looked back the archer had gone. She called out for him, but Diggle interrupted her. ‘Get out of there, Laurel. He’s gone. Turned off his locater too. Don’t worry, he’ll be back.’

‘What about his arm? He was bleeding.’ She jumped back up on the gantry and climbed onto the roof as Diggle replied.

‘Roy can handle himself, it’s better if you avoid him for now. It wasn’t your fault, by the way. He knows it too. He’s just angry with himself.’

‘Yeah, I got that. I’m on my way back.’

‘Copy that.’ Diggle closed the line and rubbed his face with his hands. He knew it was going to be bad. But he thought for a second that Roy was actually going to kill her. But then he had come back, his single, one-way message to Diggle had made it clear enough. ‘She needs proper training. And I need to be alone.’

 

Failure. The words were bitter in his mouth and Roy angrily replaced them with more alcohol. Drink after drink until he didn’t feel anything at all. Not even when the barman called Jacob to come and get him. His friend’s worried face appearing in his vision. He felt sober until he stood up and the world spun around him. Jacob’s arms wrapped around his waist and Roy leaned on him even as he stared dead ahead. The two of them made it to the taxi rank and Roy ignored his questions, just grunting until Jacob let out a sigh and pushed him into a waiting cab. Settling back in his seat, Roy stared out the window, feeling Jacob’s eyes on him. He frowned as they turned towards the docks: Portside, he nodded to himself.

‘Don’t…trust me, huh?’ The words slipped out, sullen and quiet. He felt the other man move closer to him, arm around his shoulders hugging him firmly.

‘Not right now, Roy. I just…I want to keep you safe.’

‘Huh,’ Roy snorted, ‘from myself?’

Jacob shrugged, and just patted his chest. Roy’s phone began to buzz, but he made no attempt to answer it. ‘Uh, you want to get that?’

‘Who’s it from?’

Jacob dug into Roy’s pockets, drawing a strange look from the driver, he looked down at the phone. ‘Laurel? Well, do you want it?’

‘No.’

‘Ok.’ Jacob watched him the rest of the way as Roy just stared emptily out the window.

 

The next day Roy was waiting for her at the Arrowcave. He nodded as she approach and gestured for her to follow him. She stopped and then continued when he didn’t come back. Diggle was already waiting for them in the room and he raised a brow as the two of them came in together. Roy dumped his bag on the table and wordlessly took out his suit and hung it up in the case. The bullet hole had been patched over and it was no longer blood and mud splattered on it. He knew they were watching him, but he didn’t say a word until he was finished. 

Diggle nodded for Laurel to follow him and pointed at the far alcove, out of Roy's earshot.

‘Has he said anything to you?’

‘No. Why?’

Diggle sighed, ‘He’s been quiet all day. And I mean silent. He went out an hour ago, for his gear I presume and you. After what happened last night…’

‘Yeah, about that. We should talk together.’ 

Roy looked up at their approach and turned to face them, his expression blank as he watched them. Laurel bit her lip and then began to explain what the Mayor and her father were planning.

‘Brick has ordered the city out of the Glades. Everyone, every service, all police, social workers, everything.’

‘Hmm,’ Roy spoke quietly, ‘He’ll take an entire district. A good power base. This is bad, but I don’t see how we’re going to stop him.’

‘He needs the hostages, we free them, and he loses his bargaining chip.’ She looked between them but Roy avoided her eyes. ‘Look, it’s up to us. Oliver’s not here, and yeah, I’m not Sarah, you were right. Both of you. But you’re the Red Arrow! You can do this, Roy.’

‘Arsenal.’

‘What?’

‘It’s Arsenal.’ He glanced up to meet her eyes, ‘I guess. Maybe we can try, but I don’t see two of us getting in, taking down Brick and freeing the hostages. Not when Diggle has to be here instead of covering our ass.’

‘Well that’s where I come in.’ They turned to see Felicity walking down the stairs, tablet in hand as she nodded at Laurel and smiled at Diggle. ‘You need me, John’s good, but I am the best.’

They laughed as Roy stared at her, her smile wilting under the intensity of the gaze. He frowned and then spoke, ‘So, you’re back? I thought you quit.’

‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess it took all this to make me realise what is worth fighting for. Who, is worth fighting for. I was wrong when I said Oliver’s mission was over, because it’s not his anymore. It’s ours. It’s our home that’s under attack, and we need to do something. Ok?’

He shrugged, ‘Fight for the living, honour the dead.’ Their brows rose. ‘It’s just something I’ve heard before, fits the occasion, right?’ They nodded at Roy gestured at Diggle, ‘What do we do, now?’

‘Aren’t you in charge?’

‘Yeah, and I fucked up big time. You were a soldier, you know strategy, plus you’ve been with the Arrow the longest. Take control, for now.’ Diggle blinked at Roy’s last words but indicated for them to circle the table.

‘Ok, first things first we find out where the Aldermen are.’


	14. Chapter 14

Felicity nodded to Laurel and she began speaking, the voice modulator manipulating her harmonics to sound like her sister. She was emotional as she spoke to her father, tears rolling down her cheeks as Roy watched them emotionlessly. His hands were in his pockets and he waited for something useful to come out of this manoeuvre. He was beginning to regret putting Diggle in charge, nothing to do with the man’s ability to plan, but it had made him look weak in front of Laurel and now she was going to be even more headstrong. Sure, Diggle and Felicity had been with Oliver before him, but neither of them had ever put on a mask and joined him in the brutal training and conditioning. Neither of them had risked their lives (and sanity) for Oliver the way he had, but he was once again side-lined so _she_ could be the center of attention; not even trained and she was more important than him. Ok, so maybe her ‘Daddy’ had access to the mayor and the cops, but that wouldn’t mean anything if she never learned how to land properly…

‘One of the Aldermen has a pace-maker, can you track it?’

‘If it’s remote programmable, then it’ll have GPS.’ Felicity glanced off to the side, seeing Roy staring into the ground, thoughts clearly elsewhere. ‘Roy? I almost have it.’

He looked up and nodded, ‘Gear up.’ He walked over to his suit and looked over the equipment as Laurel finished wiping her face. ‘Come on, we need to move fast. Diggle will take you in the van.’

‘What about you?’

‘I have my own bike, unless you think you can ride Oliver’s?’ He snorted, ‘Didn’t think so. Felicity will co-ordinate our approach. I’ll meet you there.’ He called over one shoulder as he headed for the enclosed garage, pulling his shirt over his head and grabbing his armour. Felicity looked after him, a concerned expression forming. But the beeping of the GPS locator distracted her.

‘Got it!’ Then she cursed, ‘Uh, guys, we have a problem.’

 

Diggle grabbed the stick and pulled it sharply towards him, sending the helicopter rearing back. He swore out loud as Roy sent him a furious look. ‘What? It’s been years since I actually flew one of these things!’

‘Like riding a bike!’ Roy called back, ‘I hope.’ It was cramped in the cockpit and his bow kept poking him in the chin as they tumbled through the air. Why had Felicity insisted on an airdrop? Oh sure Brick had a veritable army surrounding him, and maybe the building was a literal fortress, and maybe the Alderman was about to die from a heart attack, but there had to be a better-

‘Shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ He screamed out as Diggle pulled up a little too late, their landing skids scrapping along the roof of the warehouse.

‘Eh, sorry.’

‘You mother-‘

‘Roy! Below us!’ Laurel reached forward to grip the archer’s shoulder and he angrily pulled off the straps and made his way to the door, gesturing for Laurel to open it. The howling of the blades just above roared in his ears and the wind buffeted him as he pulled his bow into a firing position. He reached for an arrow as a number of thugs came out onto the roof.

‘Three guys, armed, MAC-10s!’

‘Well, take them out! They shoot, we go down!’ Diggle yelled back at them and Roy focused on the targets as the reluctant pilot struggled to keep them steady. The first arrow missed completely and Roy cursed as the second one buried itself in the thigh of one of the men.

‘They’re opening fire, Roy!’

‘I know! Fuck it!’ He pressed the remote detonator and ducked back inside as the arrow exploded, throwing the other two men from the roof. Laurel gazed down at the blood spattered roof and gasped.

‘He’ll live,’ Roy called out to her, pointing at the now legless thug crawling away. ‘Get us down there, Diggle!’

The helicopter swayed unsteadily as he descended too quickly and Roy grabbed Laurel, pushing her out as he jumped onto the rapidly approaching roof. They looked up at the screeching noise of the skids against the metal. Roy waved the all clear at Diggle and tuned in to Felicity.

‘We’re on the ground. Directions?’

‘Go down the stairs to your right. Is the helicopter ok?’

Roy pointed and Laurel took off ahead of him, ‘Yeah we’re fine, by the way, even with a rusty as hell pilot! You might want to tell Palmer it’ll need a new coat of paint, though.’

‘Oh damn. Take the next right, there’s a room there.’

‘Yeah, I see them.’ Roy waited for Laurel to clear the way and he jumped into the room, catching a thug across the chest with a kick. He dodged and ducked their attacks and dispatched them with relative ease, even in the constraints of the room, leaping to Laurel’s rescue a few times as she got her ass kicked by the enforcers. He pushed one of them off her and threw him through a wall. They battled down a row of barrels and wood until Roy grabbed his attacker and threw him against Laurel’s, knocking them both out. The final one reached for his gun and Roy turned to find it in his face. Laurel moved fast and kicked it from his hand. 

She grinned at Roy, ‘Guess we’re even now.’

Roy looked at her sourly, but she missed his glare and he ground his teeth, following her even deeper into the warehouse. It didn’t take long to find the hostages, the lone guard not standing a chance as Laurel kicked him in the stomach and Roy finished him with a deadly punch to the temple. He hit the floor unconscious, as they moved in towards the Aldermen. Roy produced an arrow and quickly cut their bonds. He grabbed one of them and pushed him ahead of him up the stairs as the other followed him closely. Laurel ducked as bullets began pinging off the wood and metal beside her, watching as Roy urged the city officials to move faster. Was he going to leave her behind? She looked up to see the advancing figure of Brickwell, angrily firing around him. But he hadn’t seen her just yet. 

She ducked around a corner and whispered, ‘Guys, I need an exit plan.’

‘Yeah, turn here, Dig.’ Roy’s voice came back to here, ‘Hostages secure, we’re coming around to the south end, the ladder’s out for you. You’re going to have to jump though.’ Laurel cursed and rounded the corner as Brick began to charge at her. She ducked his initial attack, but his vice like grip encircled her throat and she gasped as he pulled her off the ground. She scratched at his hands but he just grinned at her. 

‘Naw, naw, love. You’ve caused me enough trouble.’ He grinned up at her.

She let out a yell and kicked hard, catching him a powerful blow in that most sensitive of parts. He doubled over and released her. Glancing over to the window, she saw the bright lights of the helicopter descending. Fear gave her the needed boost to run across the room and burst through the glass and grab hold of the rope ladder. She looked up to see Roy gesturing to Diggle to lift higher and he turned his cool eyes down on her and mouthed ‘Hurry up!’ at her. She gritted her teeth and pulled herself up; even after everything that had happened, Roy still didn’t approve of her. What did she have to do to get the red archer’s green light?

 

Failure. The word still tasted bitter in his mouth. And he still drowned it out with amber liquid. But, he reflected, it could have been worse; the Aldermen were alive and he had kept his promise to safe-guard Laurel. The loss of the Glades to Brick was galling though, to have all their hard work flushed away because one city official was afraid to make the hard choices, sacrifice one of her own to keep the many safe. He scowled into his drink, not noticing who sat beside him in the near deserted bar. The bar-tender took the man’s order, his voice melodic and light, if a bit older than the normal clientele. Roy just noticed the bill being slid across the counter, the hand covered in a black glove. Midnight black, cloth rather than a synthetic. He reached for his own glass and found another being pushed towards him. He quickly swallowed his own and touched the cool surface of the other one, ice chilling it. Roy waited a moment as it registered with him that he hadn’t ordered this one. He let his gaze swing around to the man beside him. He squinted and then frowned.

‘You.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why are you here?’

‘I have an offer.’ He paused, ‘And it seems we’ll be staying after all; Thea and I. I think we could…be good together, good for each other. You still have a lot to learn, and I have a lot to teach, things she could never learn.’

Roy frowned, rolling the glass in his hands, he sighed and looked at Malcolm Merlyn, ‘What makes you think I would ever work with you?’

He smiled, a cold one that never reached his eyes, ‘You’re already half way there. I’ve been watching you, when you weren’t watching me, of course. Join me, and you can become who you were meant to be.’

Roy laughed softly, draining the glass in one gulp.


	15. Chapter 15

Oliver gasped as he stood up, the blood roaring in his ears as pain ripped his chest. He leant against the door frame and rested for a moment as he looked through blurry eyes at the concerned face of Katsu. She watched him pull the clothes around his body, not helping him as he waved her off grunting, ‘I can do this.’

He was fully dressed now and pulled the bag of supplies overhead, accepting the final bowl of medicine from her gratefully. ‘You know I have to go. I’ve been away for too long already.’

‘Your injuries are severe. You must be careful or you will only do yourself harm, you should stay.’

‘Come with me, you can keep an eye on me.’

‘No.’ She looks away from him, ‘I cannot.’ 

Oliver bits his lip as the pain flares a little less, but nods his head, understanding why she would not wish to return to the harsh reality of what was once her life. He nods his thanks at her and makes his way to the door slowly. The wind is cold and sharp, the blizzard long since passed away, but still snowflakes drift around him. She had given him a rough guide to get his bearings, but still the silence of the trees and the crunch of snow underfoot made it seem like he was the only person left in the world, lost and alone to wander in the lands of snow and ice. 

 

Roy sits hunched over his bike as he watches Brick’s enforcer enter the diner. As much as he loved the power of Oliver’s bike, his own fit him much better, and it was less obvious than the Arrow’s roaring machine. It had been a week since the City pulled its force out of the Glades and Brick’s enforcers were everywhere, ‘collection’ parties to tax the local businesses. Roy had been responding to each group all week, frustrating their efforts. But it still wasn’t enough, Brick had a small army, he was just one man. Sure, Diggle provided some fire support, but Laurel was more of a hindrance than an asset: charging off into battle, engaging too many enemies without having his back. He wished she would respect his leadership, but every time he tried to talk to her, she ignored him, or acted as though being older than him meant she knew better. He was sick of it. Plus the little matter of Merlyn’s offer played on his mind. Part of him wanted to accept, if only to have someone to back him up, someone who knew what they were doing. But another part of him reviled at considering accepting assistance from such a man. 

Roy caught his breath as he dismounted outside the diner, gripping his bow in one hand, he followed the enforcer unseen as the man entered the building. A crash of glass and his demands reached Roy’s ears and he closed his eyes for a second, concentrating on himself, before snapping them open and walking into view. One of them he could’ve handled, but another must have been inside already. The click of the gun was loud in his ears as the main villain gasped in pain. Roy had managed a swift kick before being caught off guard.

‘Well, looks like we caught ourselves a real life superhero. A little small aren’t you?’ He sneered as Roy glowered at him, ‘Call Brick!’

The one holding the gun dropped it a fraction as he reached for his radio. Roy fixed his stare on the man in front of him as the glass door beside them erupted into a shower of shards. He moved quickly then, ducking low to avoid the knee-jerk response of the gunman, plaster powder raining down on them as Roy quickly dealt with the enforcer, punching his stomach and kneeing him in the face as he doubled over. Laurel laid the gunman out with a flurry of blows from her staff and Roy nodded at her, grim faced.

‘Good. I was worried for a moment.’

‘Don’t be, I’ll save your ass anytime!’ 

Roy bit back his reply and instead radioed back to Felicity in the Arrowcave. ‘Situation dealt with. Where next?’

‘Take your pick, there’s a dozen reports coming in right now. Assault, burglary, breaking & entry, it’s all happening.’ She sounded defeated, looking at the blinking icons on the map in front of her, the panicked and scared voices on the police lines. Roy rubbed a hand over his tired eyes; it hadn’t stopped for a week, and he’d been active for almost two days. This had to end. They had to get to Brick, not keep chasing every small crime. But the others had over-ruled him, thought that Oliver would focus on defending the people first. Trying to tell them that Oliver was gone and they had to move on had meet with angry and upset glares and Roy just dropped it. ‘Roy? You there?’

‘Yeah. Just send us to the nearest one.’ He gave the place a quick look and then nodded gruffly to Laurel, ‘Come on. There’s more to do.’

 

‘Hey Roy, uh, drop Laurel off at your next call.’

‘Why?’

‘You need to see Captain Lance. He’s got a lead for us on Brick.’

‘Finally. Outside the police station, yeah?’

 

Roy tried to get the voice modulator to work, but it didn’t seem to be calibrating properly, and there was far too much light in the alley, he should probably duck his head. Yet it didn’t seem necessary, as Lance paced up and down, turning to glance at him as the deep electronic voice spoke his name.

‘Captain Lance.’

‘Harper.’ He sounded exasperated and Roy stopped fiddling with the controls, looking up in surprise.

‘What? I’m not sure…’ He trailed off as the Captain approached him.

‘Look, I see you in a red hoodie, and then I see a guy in a red hood shooting arrows at people. You think I don’t get it because you’re a little more S&M?’

‘Ugh…It’s protective.’ Roy mumbled.

‘Yeah, sure, more frills and leather, I’m not asking for the Arrow’s ID, but at least treat me like I’m not an idiot.’

Roy tilted his head, as he tried to figure out what Lance just said, ‘Huh?’

‘Forget it. Look, I have some intel you guys might be able to use.’ Lance pressed a bundle of files into his arms as Roy nodded gratefully. ‘Uh, any word on our green hooded friend?’

Roy paused for a moment, his eyes avoiding Lance’s as he replied, ‘No, he’s still…unavailable.’

‘Great. Look, Harper-‘

‘It’s Arsenal, at least when I’m on duty.’

‘Right. Arsenal. Well, is Sarah alright?’

‘Yeah,’ He bows his head, ‘I’ll let Canary know you asked after her.’

‘No, no, it’s fine to just know she’s with people she trusts, doing good work.’

‘Yeah.’ Roy paused as Lance patted him on the shoulder.

‘Be careful Harper.’

‘Arsenal.’

 

Back in the Arrowcave Roy is critically examining Laurel’s arm. It seems at her last fight one of the villains had pulled a knife and cut her pretty bad. Roy nibbled on his lower lip.  
‘If I don’t get this stitched up, it’ll get infected.’ Laurel made a face and he frowned at her. ‘Hey, you’re only wearing leather, normal leather. This,’ he grips his jacket, ‘is a reinforced leather backed with silicon plates.’

She rolled her eyes, ‘So what? You have fancier armour than me, or Sarah? I still saved your ass earlier.’

‘Which means nothing if you get yourself killed because you’re not tactically assessing the area. Damnit, Laurel!’ He sighed and then pulled the first aid kit towards him, ‘I fucking hate needles. But I need you back in the field, we’re still getting calls from all over the Glades and I’m not going to be available.’

‘Where are you going? Ouch!’

‘Sorry.’ He mutters as he lines up the needle. ‘I got some other information about Brick to run down. If we can find him, we can stop him, restore order. Now hold still.’

‘Hey guys?’ Felicity called out from behind them. She and Diggle had been sorting through the files Lance had sent over while Roy got some sleep. Felicity gestured for them to come over. ‘I think I have something. It’s an old case; twenty-one years ago, hmm, the same gun was used two days ago. Odd.’

‘The same gun?’ Roy sounded surprised and Laurel looked over at him, seeing the rings under his eyes and the tension in his face. ‘Well, that’s either arrogance or stupidity.’

‘Stupidity in this case. Hold on the case files are coming through. Oh god.’ Felicity pulled a newspaper clipping up for them all to see and Roy felt his jaw tighten. 

‘Merlyn’s wife was killed by Brickwell.’ He bit his lip and frowned as the others glanced at each other. They stood in silence for a moment before he broke it. ‘I’ll go talk to him.’

‘Wait, what? How do you know where he’ll be?’

Roy shrugged, ‘Trust me, I can find him.’

 

Malcolm Merlyn leant back in his chair, the spy cam having captured everything. It had been a risky, if worthwhile venture, to place the bug the last time he had been in the “Arrowcave” as Harper liked to refer to it. He hid his surprise well, but glanced up to look at his black armour hanging on its stand, resisting the urge to wear it immediately. He stood up and looked out of his high office over the glittering lights of the city. After a few moments his phone began to vibrate on the desk. No number, but he knew who it was.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s me. I’ve thought about your offer.’

‘Have you now?’

‘Yeah. I wanna meet.’

‘And this has nothing to do with Brick? The Glades?’

‘Of course it does. But you were right, I need to know…the things only you can teach.’

Merlyn laughed gently and replied, ‘Fine. Meet me on the roof of the Bruckner Building in half an hour.’

‘Got it.’

Roy hung up and ran a hand through his hair. It was getting longer than he liked but there had been little time for such cosmetic concerns. He had been worried that Merlyn wouldn’t meet with him, but it had been easy. Maybe he could shed some light on Brick, a little exchange of information maybe. Or it might be easier to channel Merlyn against Brick, use his anger and vengeance to pave the way for him and Laurel…well maybe just him, to grab Brick and re-establish control of the Glades. Yes, Merlyn could prove very useful indeed. Roy grinned to himself as he hung up and went over to his bike.

 

‘You’re late.’

‘Yeah, well, I was getting some info to help you out. Brick’s location. I know-‘

‘He killed my wife. Yes, I imagine you did. That is the only reason you called me. Set me on Brick and you use your enemy’s strength against him.’

‘Uh,’ Roy looked shifty, but Merlyn only smiled.

‘You misunderstand me. I approve of your cunning and your subterfuge. Oliver never did understand how you could use people to further your own aims. I’m glad you do.’

‘Yeah, well, you’ll get what you want, and I get the Glades back.’

‘Clever, Arsenal, very clever. But why should I do it, other than mere vengeance?’

‘Is there any other reason?’ Roy’s face went hard, ‘If I had the opportunity to kill the man who took someone so important from me, well I wouldn’t be standing on a roof talking about it, I’d be beating his face into a bloody mess.’

‘You really think you could kill him?’

Roy shrugged, ‘Ra’s al Ghul is pretty tough, but-‘

‘Oh, it wasn’t the Demon’s Head I was talking about.’ Merlyn smiled again, as Roy frowned at him. ‘Or have you forgotten your… friend from ARGUS already?’

‘Kyle…’

‘Exactly. The Flaming Star ring a bell? Oliver certainly knows about them.’

‘What are you talking about? How do you know...?’

‘You see this?’ Merlyn held up a pin-hole camera, ‘I have several just like it in Thea and Oliver’s apartment. I’ve been seeing everything, hearing everything for weeks, even before Oliver left. I even heard a most interesting conversation, well more like a confession.’

‘I…I don’t care. Are you helping us with Brick, or not?’ 

Merlyn pursed his lips but then nodded, ‘Of course. As you said, never miss an opportunity for vengeance. But…’

Roy looked back at him, clamping down on his irritation, ‘What?’

‘If you truly want to learn from me, if you want to be your best, if you want to know the secret that Oliver hid from you for months, come find me. After all this is over.’

‘Huh, you assume you’ll survive.’

Roy left the roof quickly, not wanting the Black Archer to see his face and that little seed of doubt that had been niggling at him for a while now pulled into sharp relief. He knew something had been off about his relationship with Oliver, something had kept them apart. Did Merlyn really know what had Oliver been keeping from him? Or was it just another trick?


	16. Chapter 16

Roy nods to Laurel and she sweeps right as he lowers himself through the window. The top floors of the station appeared to be empty and he glanced around the open door to make sure. Laurel stood nearby, waiting for his word. He hummed a little before nodding.

‘Ok, quick and quiet. I’ll go first, cover my back.’

‘Fine.’

Roy walked down the stairs slowly, pausing as he heard one of Brick’s men cock his gun. Roy sucked in a lungful of air as he launched himself from the top of the stairs, crashing down on the thug and rendering him unconscious. He grabbed one of his darts and flung it swiftly to his right, the other guard crumpling to the ground in a groan. Laurel followed him, brow raised.

‘What was that?’

‘Tranquiliser, Brick’s nearly impossible to take down. You saw what he did to Diggle, right?’

‘Yeah. Good thinking.’

Roy grunted and continued on, using the close crowded corridors of the station to his advantage, his guerrilla style tactics paying off as they move quickly through Brick’s sentries, using his speed and flexibility to out-manoeuver their superior numbers and automatic weapons. Roy glances at his watch as Laurel batters the last one on this floor with a flurry of blows to the stomach. If Merlyn was coming, he’d be here by now. Roy frowned, guess he was a fool to think the other archer would actually help them.

 

Roy spots the group surrounding Brick and pulls out his bow, a quick draw and release of his arrows has the thugs pinned to the floor and groaning. He lowers his bow a fraction as Brick turns towards them, that ornate gun in one hand the other reaching into his suit to grasp…flares!

‘Cover your-‘ 

Roy is interrupted as Brick shoots the flare gun at them and Laurel screams as her eyes burn and tears stream down her face from the red smoke. A loud bang echoes around them as a radiator busts open with a hiss of gas and a sheet of flare erupts behind them. Roy finds himself gasping into the floor as he is thrown off his feet. He glances up through blurry eyes to see Brick approaching them. He tries to stand, but his head feels full of wool and there’s this warm wet liquid running down his face. He looks over to see Laurel also trying to stand, but she collapses back down. Roy can just barely hear Felicity screaming at him over the coms, but he can’t move anymore. Brick stops over him and he hears the gun’s slide being pulled back. He was going to die first, then. He feels the blood pour into his mouth as he reaches for one of his darts. If he could maybe…

‘Danny Brickwell!’

The voice came from behind them and Brick backed off, the gun rising up to target the new threat. Roy rolled onto his back and looked behind him at the black armoured archer walking out of the shadows. 

‘Finally,’ he whispered to himself, unaware that Felicity and Diggle were listening closely, ‘The cavalry is here!’ 

There was a creak from above and Brick dived backwards as the ceiling fell in around him. Roy watched as Laurel scrabbled to her feet and glanced warily at the new arrival. Roy let his head rest against the floor a moment until Merlyn is standing over him.

‘Arsenal. We need to leave. Can you stand?’

‘Yeah, I think so.’

Roy grasped the hand offered to him and glanced over at Laurel as she eyed him warily. He jumped to one side as another part of the roof came down around them. 

‘There is an exit overlooking the parking lot. You should be able to get out that way.’ Felicity told him as he pointed the way.

‘Yeah, no point going after Brick, now. Let’s regroup at the Arrowcave, uh, I mean, Verdant.’

Roy glanced into the eyes of the Black Archer and felt himself blush, maybe it did sound a little childish…

 

Roy watches as Felicity and Diggle get up from their chairs. He had just returned from their mission and was standing by the sink, washing away the blood that had dried on his face. The cut wasn’t too bad, just above his eye where he had hit the floor hard. He dabbed at the wound until it was clean and then gently pressed the bandage onto it, seeing in the mirror Laurel gratefully sinking into a nearby chair. Guess she still hadn’t built up the stamina needed to fight without the adrenaline rush and resulting come down. He felt the atmosphere in the room shift as another pair of boots walked down the metal stairs.

Roy turned to face Merlyn, his armour still smelling of smoke and fire and little flecks of blood from the fighting, while the other archer’s cloth and leather were unblemished, the midnight black hood hanging from one hand as he regarded them thoughtfully. Roy took a breath and stood forward, halfway between Merlyn and the others.

‘Guys? Look, I know Merlyn isn’t exactly the ideal ally, but right now we don’t have anyone else.’

Felicity glared at him, ‘Seriously, Roy? You have no right bringing him in on this.’

‘We needed the help.’

‘Ok, but that’s it. No more.’

‘Felicity, you and Diggle both agreed that I had control over the operations, that this was my team now.’

He watched as her mouth grew into a line, but Diggle reached out and clasped her shoulder.

‘Fine Roy, we trust you,’ Diggle looked at Merlyn, ‘but that doesn’t mean there’s not going to be consequences later.’

‘Yeah, I got that.’ Roy turns to look at Merlyn smirking at them and gives him a curt nod. They were uneasy allies at best, but it was still better than nothing. He looked over to Felicity and Laurel. 

‘You told him everything?’

‘I told him what he needed to know. Plus he saved us, you might want to let that frown go, Laurel.’

‘He’s only in this for his own self-interest, I’m sure.’

Merlyn grinned his shark grin at her remark and nodded slightly, ‘Your group has talent, well, one of your group has, the rest of you are nonetheless quite capable, and I think since our interests are aligned on this, we should help each other take down Brick. And return control of the Glades.’ He added as an afterthought.

‘Agreed.’

‘No, not agreed. You don’t speak for us all, Roy.’

‘Come on Felicity, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, you know that one? There’s no way we can keep responding to the petty stuff, we need to take Brick down, and we’ll need support.’

‘I’m not listening to this right now.’ Felicity retorted as she and Roy glared at each other, ‘You might want to lead this team, but there’s no way I agree with working with him.’ Diggle nodded his agreement as Laurel stood up and joined them. ‘Not a chance Roy.’

‘Damnit! Can’t you see we need him?’ Roy shouted angrily at them as they stared back, ‘Fine, whatever, I’m going with him, you can…’

‘Roy, wait!’ Diggle calls out, hand reached out to stop him from leaving. ‘Let’s just, there has to be another way to do this without selling our souls to Malcolm freaking Merlyn. Oliver would never do this.’

Roy pauses, rocking on his heels and bows his head, sighing, ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

Merlyn smirks and leaves, calling over his shoulder, ‘You know how to find me Roy. As for the rest of your team, better weigh your options.’

Roy watched him leave and ran a hand through his hair, wondering how he could convince them to use Merlyn just this once. Laurel beckoned him and he wandered over to stand beside them, resting on a bench as Felicity checked the external cameras to make sure Merlyn had actually left.

‘We’re not actually going to team up with him, are we?’ Laurel asked as she glanced between Roy and Felicity. 

‘He’s a weapon. We should use him as one, and deal with two problems at once.’

‘That’s not what Oliver would’ve done.’

‘Yeah, I know. But he’s not here, is he? And he’s never going to be!’ Roy could feel the rage boiling over as he looked at their sorrowful faces. Sure, he felt the loss sometimes, but the only thing that he felt right now was anger. ‘He was a fool, thinking he could beat Ra’s! He left us all alone to deal with this hellhole of a city. It’s not fair. He abandoned us!’ 

‘That’s not true Roy, he had to try, to save Thea.’ Felicity reached out to pat him on the back, persisting even as he flinched away. ‘I know you’re angry and hurt, but Oliver put Thea first.’

‘Yeah,’ he went quiet, ‘of course he did. Fuck it, I need a drink.’

‘Roy? Please wait….’ Felicity watched him go as Diggle held up a hand to stop Laurel from following him.

 

High above the empty dance floor Roy knocked back his second glass and wandered over to where Thea was standing, leaning against the railings as Brick’s tax collectors drank away her investment. He nodded at her.

‘Huh, and I was going to be the one drowning my sorrows and staring moodily at the world.’

She glanced at him and smiled, ‘Yeah, took your spot, I guess.’ She sighed, eyes tired and worried. ‘So, did you hear anything about Oliver from…him?’

‘Uh, not exactly.’ Roy thought quickly as Thea turned to face him, ‘He, uh, he left town and headed towards Central City, but after that…’

‘It goes cold?’

‘No. It’s just with everything that’s happened here,’ Roy gestures down at Brick’s now drunk enforcers, ‘well, we’ve been busy.’

She sagged, but nodded, ‘I guessed. But he’ll probably turn up. He lasted on that island for five years after all.’

Roy nodded and let his gaze slip away and into the mid-distance. Thea looks at him, studying his face with those sharp cheekbones and deep bright eyes. His jaw is held tightly as it becomes more prominent in his face, brows furrowed even as his eyes look into nothingness. She touches his arm gently. ‘Roy?’

‘Yeah?’ Still his gaze is unmoving.

‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah,’ he lets out a long breath, ‘I just have to make difficult decision is all. Not exactly a matter of trust, but others are involved, and they’re not exactly on his side.’

She nibbled her lip, unsure of what to make about the cryptic response, ‘Well, is this about your…friend, the one with the bad news?’ She cringed as she said it, knowing it sounded awkward, but Roy didn’t seem to notice.

‘Yeah, in a way. I just…I wished they trusted me.’ He looked up and grimaced, ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.’

‘It’s ok. I do…forgive you, you know. For everything that happened, with the secrets and that guy and the, um, interest in the Hood, I mean the Arrow.’

‘Huh? Wait, you knew?’

‘Yeah,’ she smiled warily at him, ‘you talk in your sleep, well it more like moaning.’

‘Oh god.’ Roy felt his face blush and he quickly drank down the rest of his drink. ‘Well, I’m still sorry. Despite everything, I should’ve been there for you instead of just disappearing.’

‘You mean during the Siege?’ Roy nodded, ‘Well, don’t worry about it. I had my guardian, well not angel really. But Merlyn was there.’

‘Really?’

‘One of those superhuman thugs came after me in the train station and, well if my father hadn’t been there…’

Roy nodded slowly as Thea watched him, ‘Everyone has some good days, I guess.’

‘It wasn’t a once off thing. He’s been looking out for me for a while. Maybe it is just because we’re blood, but, he’s changed. Not a lot, but I know he has a good heart.’

Roy arched a brow at that statement. A good heart? Yeah right, but still, it could be useful as a way to convince the others. He nodded and stood back, ‘Uh, thanks.’

‘What for? I didn’t give you any advice.’

‘In a way you did.’ He half smiled at her and walked away.

 

Laurel and Felicity looked up when Roy returned, his features returned to their stoic normality as he gestured for them to gather round. 

‘Ok, listen up. I know you don’t want to trust Merlyn, and to be honest that’s probably a bad idea anyway, but we can use him. And not just as a weapon.’

‘Why? He’s evil, Roy, that’s all there is to it.’

‘I know the way he manipulated Oliver and Thea means you’ll never like him or trust him or stand to be in the same room as him, Felicity. But I’m telling you, there’s more there. I just talked to Thea, she told me that on the night of the Siege with Slade’s thugs everywhere, it was Malcolm Merlyn who saved her life, not Oliver, not us.’ He took a breath as they mulled this over before he continued, ‘I’m not saying we should make this a permanent alliance, but for this one, very special moment, we use him, we point him at Brick and pull the trigger.’

He stood back as Diggle nodded in agreement. Felicity glared at them both. ‘No. No way am I ever teaming up with that, that…I can’t Roy.’

He looked at the others, ‘Well?’

‘No.’ Laurel was quick and she stood her ground as he frowned at her.

‘Hmm, I’m sorry, Roy, but I can’t.’

‘Fine. Fine, I’ll deal with Merlyn.’ 

 

Roy waited on the roof of the building, resting on his haunches as he considered his options. There was the slightest crunch of gravel and Roy sprung up, bow armed and pointing into Merlyn’s chest.

‘Not bad. Most people don’t even hear me coming.’

Roy lowered his bow and relaxed the string. ‘Yeah, I can imagine. I’m only here to deliver a message. They said no to your help and never to the alliance, and I’m not exactly able to force them.’

‘I sense a ‘but’ coming.’ Merlyn tilted his head as Roy grunted.

‘Yeah, they don’t want to take the risk, of letting the end justify the means, too afraid we’ll turn into you.’

‘You’re not.’

‘No.’ Roy paused a moment before continuing, ‘I’m in.’

‘What about them?’

‘They don’t have to know. Look, let’s just get this done and then we’ll talk properly. Right now I Brickwell dealt with, dead or alive.’ Roy noted the look of surprise on Merlyn’s face and added, ‘It’s like I said to them; Oliver’s not coming back, it’s time to start living our lives without him.’

‘A good insight.’

‘Yeah, I have a few. I’ll be in touch.’

Merlyn nods at him and Roy re-arms his bow, firing the grapple off toward the nearby office block. He made the jump with ease, relishing the wind rushing past his ears, wanting to do this ever since he saw Oliver do it a few months ago. He landed rough, though and rolled into a ball, before springing up and disappearing from view.

 

Laurel nodded to him in the back of the van.

‘Do you ever get nervous?’

‘Like right now?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Of course, I’m gonna need that adrenaline rush. Especially with this plan of yours.’

She frowned as Felicity typed quickly in the front seat and Diggle doubled checked his reloads. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘Well, I just think my way would have been better. I know we’ll have an army to back us up, well a militia, but…’

‘But?’

‘You saw Brick’s men, they have automatic weapons, and what do our guys have? Handguns, maybe, or sticks and stones.’

‘They have us.’ Laurel reminded him as she counted the seconds down, ‘Ok!’

‘Yeah, us,’ Roy thought to himself as he pulled his hood up, ‘Bows, arrows and a freaking bow-staff.’ He glanced up to see Laurel looking down the street and quickly pressed the send button on his phone. With any luck Merlyn would come exactly when they needed him most. Roy followed Laurel out into the center of the street as Brick and his force of thugs walked out to meet them.

 

High above them in the upper atmosphere an ARGUS spy satellite rotates into its new position, its ultra-powerful lens focusing on the blaze of light miles below. The images are fed down to the control room as Onslaught sips his coffee. Scenes of a pitched battle play out across the screen. He watches emotionlessly as the red hooded archer gives the order to engage and taps a button to track him amongst the swarm of people. They clash hard, the muzzle bursts of automatic weapons shinning out in the darkened street. He hears the door open behind him and glances to see Waller standing still as he looks at the screens around the room.

‘Hell of a show. Just started too.’ He called out to her as she took the steps up to his dais two at a time.

‘Starling City? The Glades?’

‘Yeah, where else? We’ve been monitoring the situation for days now, waiting for you.’ He glanced up to meet her steely gaze. 

She glared back at him, her reply curt. ‘I’m sorry Agent Westen, but my schedule is not designed to benefit you.’

He glanced up at Arsenal before turning back to grin at her, his eyes sparkling darkly as she felt a shiver run down her spine. ‘Perhaps it should be then. You’re the only one who can authorise troop deployment. And Starling needs it. Unless, of course you’d like us to drop a bomb on the Glades? Again?’

‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll make the call for the National Guard.’

‘Excellent. Maybe next time this happens, you won’t sit on your hands and let innocent people die.’

‘I don’t like your tone Agent Westen.’

He smirked, standing up to whisper to her, ‘I know. You’re afraid of me.’ He leans in closer and his voice drops to a bare whisper. ‘You should be.’ 

She let him leave before exhaling. His eyes…what had he done? The irises were swirling vortexes of silver and black, with the barest pinpricks of light glimmering in the depths of the pupils. She had heard that the Experimental Sciences division had made a recent break-through, but she hadn’t authorised human trials, especially on their own men. Waller didn’t know what was going on, not yet, but there had been rumblings for months now of attempts to oust her from the top. Of a secret group even within ARGUS that followed their own agenda. It had sounded ridiculous at first, but she had been noticing a deepening division between Operations and Research. But duty came first…She glanced up at the attack on the streets of Starling, playing out in real time as she picked up the nearby phone.

 

Onslaught stopped outside the control in the empty corridor and looked down at his hands shaking uncontrollably, watching the serpent of black energy weave its way around and through his fingers. He clenched his fist and felt the energy flare around it, a silver dark aura surrounding his fist. He resisted the urge to unleash the energy and clenched his fist tight, his nails digging to the soft flesh of his hands. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and grabbed it quickly.

‘Onslaught.’

‘Ah, Westen. Good. Look I need you to head up to Central City.’

‘What for?’

‘The latest readings came back, and quite frankly, we don’t understand them.’

‘But Dr Wells will.’

‘Indeed. The energy you’re creating, well to say its unnatural is an understatement. You mentioned that individuals are appearing in Central City with similar, uh, abilities.’

‘Yeah. I’ll leave now.’ He hung up and watched the black aura fade back into his skin as he relaxed. He exhaled deeply and let his head fall back against the marble wall. ‘Guess you’re on your own, Arsenal.’ He whispered to himself. 

 

Roy dived in front of the teenager and tackled the thug with ease, laying him out and kicking away the gun as he glanced back to check on the kid.

‘Get outta here! Go on!’ He yelled at the boy as he reached for an arrow. Roy switched his attention back to the group of enforcers that had taken up a firing position away from the other fools who had run into melee range. Roy carefully lined up the explosive arrow and launched it at the feet of the nearest thug. The explosion rocked the street and the group were flung backwards. Roy glanced over at Laurel, on her knees beside a man he didn’t recognise, badly injured though. And Brick? Nowhere to be found. Roy cursed and dialled his phone, looping it into his coms on another channel. It rung once before being answered.

‘Arsenal?’

‘Yeah. Where are you?’

‘Chasing down an old friend.’

Even over the sounds of the battle Roy could hear the thwack of an arrow being released and the resulting grunt of pain. ‘You got this, right?’

‘Oh yes, I’m going to enjoy my revenge.’

Roy nodded to himself and ducked a clumsy attack, sweeping his legs down and pushing the thug off his feet. He ended the fight quickly with a few jabs to the face, the man’s nose breaking with a sickening crunch. ‘Got it. I’m going-‘

A green arrow thuds into the ground beside him and Roy stares at it, his words forgotten as a grin a mile wide forms on his face. Really? Could it be? But then a sharp yell from his rear directs him to another group of thugs beating on a kid. Laurel glances up and whispers ‘Oliver?’

 

Roy glances up from his position in the shadows, finishing off one of the retreating thugs. He watches as Oliver swings down from the bridge and stands atop an overturned truck. At first Roy smiles, glad Oliver is alive, back, and well, alive!

‘People of the Glades! Of Starling! I have returned! I’m sorry that in my absence this evil came to nest here in this city. But I tell you now, never again! Never again will I abandon my city when it needs me! Never will I let my people suffer!’ Oliver finished his speech to roars of approval and applause, but all Roy hears is the criticism in his voice, the disappointment that he, Roy, had let things get so bad…

He glances to his left and sees Merlyn’s back turned to him, Brickwell beaten, bloody and bruised, but tied up and waiting for the police to grab him. Roy watches as Oliver speaks to Merlyn, softly and out of earshot, before grabbing Brick and marching him out to the cheers of the crowd and the rapid approach of sirens. Roy sighs and then looks back to the alleyway to see Merlyn staring at him. Roy blinks and grabs his bow, running off into the night and out of the penetrating gaze of the other archer. 

 

Oliver returns to the Arrowcave and sure he’s glad to see Felicity and Diggle. But it’s Roy he wants. Roy he expected to pull into the most intense hug ever when he came down the stairs. Roy, who he wanted to kiss and didn’t care who saw it. But Roy wasn’t there. And none of the others would meet his eyes when he asked where he went. They grinned at him and patted him on the back and were so happy at his return, but Roy was gone.

 

His heart should be lighter, he should feel better, then why was this bitterness in his mouth? Why did he leave before Oliver got back? The stares the others gave him were too much, he ran and ran, dropping his coms on the way out. It was Merlyn who found him, of course. The Black Archer didn’t really know where to look, but he just had this gut feeling of where to find Roy. He comes over and sits on the edge.

‘He’s back. I thought you’d be there. Or have you seen him already?’

‘No.’

Merlyn nodded and sat down beside him, ‘I think I understand.’ 

‘I doubt it.’

‘Well, let me try.’ Roy didn’t say anything, and Merlyn pulled off his hood to let the wind at his face, watching as it ruffled Roy’s hair. ‘Just as you were getting used to operating without him, making decisions without him, leading Team Arrow, he returns, on a gilded chariot, no less, taking credit for Brick, when it was you who did all the work, taking over from you. And I’m sure he’ll tell you that you did a good job, all things considered, a pat on the head, but move over now, Oliver’s back. Am I warm?’

Roy shrugs but the expression on his face tells the story. ‘Maybe. But does it matter? I always hoped he’d come back.’

‘Yet you were the first to accept his death, the one who held it all together when he was gone, who kept the false Canary alive when otherwise she would be dead. I don’t think anyone else could do what you’ve done. But Oliver, well, you know what he’s like, he won’t praise you for it, just pick up on all the things you did wrong.’

‘He only criticises me to…’ Roy stopped and looked out at the view. ‘No. You’re right. He never acknowledged me when he was alive, that’s not going to change now he’s back from the grave.’

Merlyn smiled and stood up, ‘So, thought any more about my offer?’

‘Yeah. I know how to fight, but I overheard Thea saying you taught her not to get hurt again.’

‘You have been listening carefully,’ Merlyn was surprised but extended his hand to Roy. ‘You want the same thing?’

‘I don’t want to feel this broken on the inside anymore. Not from Kyle’s death, or from Oliver, or anyone. I wanna be strong.’ He looked up at Merlyn and nodded, taking the offered hand. 

Merlyn pulled him up and nodded at him. ‘Only the student can defeat the master.’ He gave him that sly grin again. ‘Partners?’

‘Partners.’ For now. Roy added silently as he locked stares with the cold eyed assassin.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onslaught's backstory & Oliver tries to repair a damaged relationship, with unintended results.

The lab was quiet, just as it had been on that fateful night almost a year ago. Of course the silence then had a different quality, a sort of nervous anticipation for the starting of the accelerator. Great things had been promised, new materials, new knowledge, new ways to deal with the same old problems. But it wasn’t to be. The accelerator had broken, the high powered energy ripping through the facility and spreading out across the city. He had warned them this would happen. Had told Dr Wells that he was a fool to build the accelerator in the middle of a city. But the scientist had casually brushed aside his concerns, even on his last visit before the activation, Wells had insisted his defensive protocols would make accidental exposure impossible. 

That hadn’t happened, though. New and varying powers were showing up every week, the individuals gifted with them becoming dangerous or peaceful entities. But that didn’t really concern him now. It was his powers that he was worried about. Onslaught stood in the antechamber outside the control room. It was empty, he had watched from a supply room as the two civilian scientists left and then watched with interest the speeding blur rush past him. He wetted his lips, nerves finally making themselves known, the icy grip on his stomach as he paused before the open doors. He could hear the soft hiss of Dr Wells’ wheelchair as it moved around the other room. He glanced down at his hands, the shimmering aura he was no longer able to hide. It had been getting stronger the nearer he came to the lab, almost as though the machine wanted to haul him back into its depths. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to relive those nightmarish hours again. 

‘Kyle?’

Dr Wells’ even voice made him blink his lids open. The scientist was sitting in front of him, hands clasped in that way of his, his brows slightly furrowed as he regarded the man before him.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘Being here. If…’ Onslaught stopped and flicked his eyes up to meet Dr Wells’ steady gaze, before dropping them again, ‘If there had been another way…someone else to go to…’

Wells didn’t reply, just inclined his head to follow and rolled back into the control room. Onslaught followed him in and stood awkwardly. Dr Wells steepled his fingers and nodded for his guest to continue.

‘This is hard. I had hoped never to return here, it was never meant to have happened the way it did.’ He looked around, ‘But, you’ve made the best of it, I see.’

‘I was never sure if your organisation was involved. But then you did come to…visit me before I turned it on.’

Onslaught nodded slowly, ‘I’m head of Black Ops for this region, have been for months now. But this was never sanctioned by Waller. The, uh, others were the ones who wanted the sample.’

‘How did you know it was here?’

‘We have a source in your labs. Confirmation was made and I was told to retrieve the material. It was meant to be simple.’

Dr Wells looked at him in the long silence and Onslaught just stared off into the mid-distance, eyes glazed over as he began speaking from memory, reliving that night.

‘There were three of us, any more would have raised suspicion. But the sample, the small amount you had, was meant to be extraordinarily heavy. They were the muscle really. I guess I just wanted to see the machine. We breached the perimeter easily, no guards to speak of, the access tunnels were monitored, but our tech guys had been feeding you false footage for hours. We went down, deep underground into the vault.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘Kaine was killed, Ryan dropped the sample on him. Didn’t mean to of course, but the stasis chamber went straight through him, never seen anything like it. Coward ran like hell though. Shot him myself, no leaks, you see, never leave a loose end. The sample had a strange energy about it, so I grabbed the tongs nearby and picked it up. Wasn’t heavy exactly…’

‘Just dense. You didn’t go straight back?’

‘No. I figured the energy from the accelerator would eventually break down the two agents. Hauled them into the tunnel. Was about to leave them there when I saw it. The glimmer, the shade between the two worlds, the veil torn asunder.’

‘Eloquent.’ Dr Wells paused as Onslaught continued to look into the past. ‘You were there for the explosion?’

‘There? Yeah, saw the whole thing, had no idea I was just feet from the ignition point. Of course I had cut the wires at the access door, couldn’t risk you stopping the machine before they had been atomised. I was there when the pipe ruptured, witnessing the event horizon. Beautiful. Terrifying. Such perfect destruction. I could feel it too.’

‘Feel what?’ Dr Wells frowned at him as he noticed the man clench his fist, the white of the bone pressing against his flesh as a strange black liquid seemed to flow through his veins.

‘The energy, radiation, I suppose. I should be dead, I know.’ Onslaught seemed to break from his remembrance and looked up at Dr Wells, seeing the sudden fear in his eyes, his own black orbs reflected in his glasses. ‘But your sample, the, uh, well we call it Neutronium, it energised and I was bonded to it.’

‘On the cellular level?’

‘Cellular, molecular, atomic, everything has been affected. At first it wasn’t so bad, I could continue working, continue living, continue being with him. But…then I noticed it. Little things at first, exceptional durability, rapid regeneration of tissue and bone, and, of course, my eyes.’

‘I noticed. But why come to me? Don’t your people have labs?’

‘Yeah, but none of them have done the things you and your team have.’

‘I don’t-‘

‘The Flash?’ Onslaught cocked a brow, ‘Don’t tell me you deny he’s one of yours?’

‘Well, I figured you’d be monitoring us.’

‘Look, I’m here because we never got the sample, it was passed into me and all their efforts to extract it have led to failure. They’re afraid, afraid they won’t be able to control my abilities, or to harness them for themselves.’

‘Should they be?’

Onslaught paused and glanced around before holding up his hands, palms open. ‘Watch.’ He closed his eyes and let the power flow through him, as easy as breathing, it just came, he didn’t need to try any more. Dr Wells watched in fascination as streams of black and silver energy emerged from his skin and weaved themselves around his fingers, encasing them in a shimmering almost liquid-like armour. More streams could be seen emerging from under his open collar and before long his face and hair was covered. The scientist leaned back in surprise as Onslaught continued to speak through the rippling, shimmering field, his voice deeper, the mask mimicking his facial movements.

‘This is as far as I have been able to get. I can sustain the complete shielding for several hours, or just a few minutes if I do other things.’

‘Other things? Such as?’

The silvery liquid parted in the imitation of a smile and Dr Wells found himself floating upwards. He glanced around, seeing everything not bolted down begin to rise.

‘So far,’ Onslaught grunted in exertion, ‘I can sustain the anti-gravity field for a minute. Ugh!’ He let his arms fall to his sides as Dr Wells floated gently back to his chair and the iridescent armour retracted from around Onslaught, soaking back into his skin. He grasped the table for support and gasped for air. ‘Sorry, that’s it. I can’t do it again for a while.’

‘Your eyes are still glowing.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think that changes. I can still draw some power if I need it. It’s just below the surface.’

‘Hmm. I need to…’ Dr Wells stopped midsentence and shot a look at the doorway. Onslaught arched a brow. ‘Nothing, just thought I felt someone watching us. Now, for your problems, the way I see it…’

 

Barry pressed his body against the cool concrete and breathed a sigh of relief, he was almost sure Dr Wells had seen him. But apparently not, he could still hear his mentor talking to the other…man. It had to be a Metahuman, but Dr Wells didn’t seem concerned. Barry had almost walked right in when he heard the two of them talking. But then when he stuck his head around the corner he saw the weird silver and black armour of the stranger creeping up his body. Something in his gut told Barry to stay put and he had watched from just out of sight as the man raised his hands and repelled gravity. That was the only word for it, really. Barry felt as though a giant hand was pressing down on him, from every angle and he gasped, dying for air, until suddenly the pressure was gone.

Dr Wells didn’t sound as though he was in danger and the two men were speaking to each other again. The talk was technical and scientific, and although Barry thought he got the gist of what they were discussing, he couldn’t be certain; stellar mass, stasis chamber dilation, N-way fusion? What the hell…who was this guy?

Barry peeped around the door and examined the man without his liquid-like mask. He was quite handsome, in a rugged sort of way. Well built, with muscles just showing under his light jumper. Stubble covering his chin and cheeks and he had tired eyes. But what eyes! So strange and yet so enticing. Barry almost gave himself away as he stared into those fixating orbs of rotating black and silver. He swore they locked gazes, but the man, Kyle, he heard Dr Wells call him, didn’t acknowledge his presence. Barry had got used to the benefits of being the Flash; the speed, the high metabolism, the new wiry strength of his toned body, but this guy looked the only thing his powers had added was worry. His hands shook as he spoke, gesturing a little.

‘And that’ll stop it?’

‘For now, a controlled release should ease the build-up of Neutronium fluids in your bloodstream.’

‘Huh. You know, I was afraid to come back here. And not just because the accelerator. What the General did-‘

‘Is not your concern. You stepped in when I needed you to. I take it that debt is paid?’

‘Yeah.' Kyle lowered his eyes and nodded. 'I better go.’

Barry flattened himself against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut as Kyle suddenly walked out. He felt the man stop in front of him and opened his eyes and looked into those insanely intense eyes. Kyle frowned at him, pausing as if he was going to speak, but then he closed his mouth and nodded curtly at Barry and walked on. The Flash watched him go, following him until he disappeared around the corner. He let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and let his head roll back. ‘Ahhhh hell. So hot…’

 

Roy glanced over Merlyn’s shoulder at the vastness of Starling City laid out from the height of the office. The floor to ceiling windows seemed like a stupid idea for someone on the run from the League of Assassins and the cops and…well, everyone. But, Roy reflected as he admired the view, it sure was majestic to look all the way out across the river towards the forested mountains. He shifted uncomfortably as he waited for Merlyn to speak, it wasn’t the first time they had met like this, but something was different this time.

‘Oliver came to see me. Well, Thea. But I was there too.’

‘Uh huh.’ 

‘He wants my help. Thinks I can teach him how to defeat Ra’s al Ghul, using swords rather than bows. Plus I know how the League fights, what we’ve learned from him.’

Roy lifts his brows, ‘So? What does that have to do with me and you?’

‘Everything. Besides, I figured since you and Oliver…work together so well, I could train you both at the same time?’

‘No way. I can just about stand being in the same room as him.’ Roy replied bitterly, avoiding Merlyn’s piercing gaze.

‘I thought you’d be glad to have him back.’ Merlyn frowns at him. ‘Even if he doesn’t value you as you value him, are you not happy to see he is alive?’

‘Yeah, well it’s been five days and he still hasn’t come to talk to me, just me and him. I just…I don’t feel the same way about him as I did before he left.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, I’m not sure. I just, I feel so damn angry at him!’ Roy glared out the window as Merlyn moved closer to him, his next words whispered softly into his ears.

‘Because he chose Thea over you?’

Roy looks up at the calculating eyes of his new trainer, ‘Yeah. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’ 

Merlyn just nodded and took a few steps back. ‘Shall we begin?’

Roy shrugged, watching as Merlyn took up a stance. He left his own hands hanging by his side and waited until Merlyn stepped into range to strike. His slumped form moved with lightning speed as he lunged towards the Black Archer catching him by surprise, throwing him back onto the hardwood floor. Roy reached under Merlyn’s robes for the dagger he kept at his side and ripped it out of the holster, holding against the man’s throat as he straddled his waist. Roy tilted his head as Merlyn grinned at him.

‘Very good! Attack when they least expect it. Make the most of your enemy’s apparent vulnerabilities!’

Roy nodded wordlessly and got off him, offering the blade back to him and awaited the response. 

 

Oliver glanced hopefully at the stairs before looking down at his watch. He felt Felicity’s gaze on him and shrugged. ‘Fine. Get on with the briefing. If he was coming, he’d be here.’

‘Ok.’ Felicity swiped the details of the latest mission into view as Diggle and Oliver leaned over her as she brought them through it. His mind was only half on the briefing, watching Felicity’s hands as they pointed to various facts and figures. But he was really thinking about Roy. The first time he had seen him after he got back from his near-death, Oliver had given him this great big smile and opened his arms wide. Roy had just looked at him coolly, shook his head and shouldered past. Oliver had frowned at him and walked after him, but Roy continually blanked him. Oliver got that Roy was angry and upset, but he didn’t understand why he wasn’t at least somewhat happy to see him. Oliver felt like they had taken several steps backwards and he was stuck in that weird stage where anything he said to Roy set him off. But, at least Oliver was sure now. This was what he wanted, he felt the desire, the pull towards Roy in a way he had only really felt for women before this. He had to see it through, had to know if these were just some confused feelings about being near someone attractive for too long. And yeah, he knew Roy was hot, you didn’t have to be gay or a woman to see that. He had this aura about him, this attraction that just made you want to grab him and kiss him and never let him go. Maybe there would be something else after the physical needs were met, but Oliver honestly didn’t know if that was what he wanted with Roy. He knew that using the young archer like this would be kinda wrong, but Roy did lust for him, he saw in the man’s eyes. So if they both got some release, what did it matter?

‘Oliver?’

‘Huh?’

‘I asked if you wanted me to scout the location?’

‘Uh, yeah, sounds good Dig.’ Oliver blinked and nodded as Felicity waved Diggle off. ‘Um, Felicity?’

‘What is it Oliver? These files are a mess!’ She looked up from the screen, frowning as she tried to find the missing folders.

‘Can you track Roy? GPS?’

‘Yeah. Let’s see…’ Felicity hummed to herself and then looked up, ‘Nope! His phone must be off. No signal.’

Oliver hums and haws for a few minutes as Felicity continues to type silently. He sighed and stretched. ‘Ok, I’m going to find him.’ He grabbed his bow and left quickly. 

Felicity took a sip of her coffee and rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. ‘Honestly, those two…’

 

He starts by going to Roy’s house, but just finds it empty and cold. Oliver frowned at himself as he stood in Roy’s backyard, The house was dark and there didn’t seem to be anyone in there, but he wasn’t going to give up; there had to be a clue inside as to Roy’s whereabouts. Oliver walked around a little, before stopping outside the hallway window. Looking in it was pretty dark, but he thought he could see the outline of the couch at the other end of the room. He reached into his pocket and took out a penknife, forcing the old window up and wiggled through the small space. He sat on the sill for a moment as his eyes got used to the darkness. It was dead quiet inside. He pushed off the sill and landed on his feet. There was a click. A sudden sharp noise that gave Oliver pause for half a second before he flung himself down on the ground. There was a hiss of escaping air and then a loud thunk as something sharp and pointy flew overhead. Oliver glanced down at the concealed crossbow trap and then upwards to see the thick iron bolt buried in the wall. He winces and makes a mental note to get that fixed. 

His progress throughout the rest of the house is careful as he ducks and dodges the cunningly concealed traps and deadfalls, shaking his head as he realises Roy wasn’t expecting to bring anyone home, or at least for anyone to get out alive. Oliver stops as he reaches Roy’s bedroom, the bed neatly made and this room the tidiest in the house. Oliver glanced around, trying to identify any more traps or triggers. It seemed secure. He entered and looked over the bed, noticing something shiny glinting in the stream of moonlight from the uncovered window. He wandered over to pick up the strange arrow, the head a complex weave of metal and what looked like red crystal. It was almost decorative until Oliver ran a finger over it, gasping in pain as the edge cut right through his gloved hands and blood ran freely down his wrist. He frowned, wondering where Roy had got such a weapon. He sighed to himself, Roy wasn’t here and his efforts to go snooping had only led to triggering yet more of the hidden traps. It wasn’t going to be easy explaining that to Roy…

Oliver sags a little, but then his gaze is drawn by a receipt lying beside Roy’s bed, a few coins on it. Oliver looks at the logo and then remembers, ‘Ah, of course, the Tricky Nipple! Where else would Roy be?’

 

Getting to the bar was easy, going in though, that was the hard part. Oliver told himself he was only here to look for Roy, find out if he was ok, maybe talk a little and then get the hell out. He walked towards the door and the bouncer looked him over before nodding at him. Oliver slipped his hands into his pockets and entered into the darkness. The music was getting loud now, at this time of night, but apart from a few initial glances in his way, Oliver found that the patrons didn’t seem that interested in him. Granted most of them seemed a lot younger than he was; college students probably. He headed towards the large central bar and looked around surreptitiously, trying to avoid eye contact, but having little luck finding his sidekick. 

Oliver fumes at himself, this was a stupid idea, he should just grab Roy and talk to him the next time they’re on a mission. He turns about suddenly and bumps into the man behind him.

‘Oh, shit. Sorry.’

The man just nods, giving himself the once over and raises his head, smile forming easily. ‘Ah, no problem, nothing spilled. You’re good.’ 

Oliver shrugs, but then pauses as he recognises the man, ‘Oh. I know you.’ 

‘Uh, you sure? Oh, hey, wait! You’re Oliver!’

‘Uh, yeah, Jacob, right?’ Oliver can’t help but run his eyes over the man standing in front of him. His cute face was smiling at him as Oliver realised that they were doing the same thing and he blushed as Jacob grinned even more. He had a glass clutched in his hand and nodded at Oliver, ‘So, you want a drink?’

‘Uh, no, um, I’m looking for Roy.’

‘Oh, yeah, of course. I saw him yesterday, he was kinda out of it, like most nights, but he kept rambling on about some new “trainer” he had got, apparently a lot better than his old one. You could try looking there?’ He added helpfully.

‘New trainer huh? Uh, well it’s no big deal.’ Oliver returned Jacob’s grin and added, ‘Maybe I will have that drink after all.’

 

Oliver couldn’t remember the last time he’d drunk this much, and it showed. He wasn’t a stumbling, rambling drunk like some people were, nor was he the sudden silent type who moaned on about their lot. Instead Oliver found himself doing things he hadn’t done since before the ship-wreck: flirting with anyone in sight, dancing incredibly badly, but not caring, and of course knocking down shots whenever they were offered, because at that stage it didn’t really matter anymore. Thoughts of Roy had been driven from his head as he settled his eyes eagerly on Jacob. The other guy was taking a more measured approach and had begun bringing Oliver glasses of water instead of more alcohol. 

‘Hey, Oliver? Maybe it’s time we go, huh?’

Oliver muttered something unintelligible and Jacob frowned, his face scrunching up as the older man stared at him.

‘Uh, right. Ok, let’s get you up.’ He reached over and Oliver got up, staggering as the world spun wildly around him. He grabbed Jacob tightly around the waist as the shorter man struggled with his weight. ‘Damn, you’re like made of muscle!’ He mutters to himself as he pushes Oliver towards the door. ‘Uh, Oliver? A little higher, buddy.’ Oliver just grinned and let his hands wander down Jacob’s back and gave his tight butt a quick squeeze. The other man yelped at frowned at him, before waving away the bouncer. ‘It’s cool, dude, he’s just had way too much to drink.’

‘Can you manage?’

‘Yeah, yeah. We’re good.’ Jacob guides Oliver towards a nearby cab and pushes him into it forcibly. ‘Get in Oliver, come on!’

Oliver slurred at him and the younger man buckled him in, giving the driver directions before resting his head back. Why did he always get stuck bringing the drunk guys home?

 

Roy was standing at the window, his back to the open modern fireplace as Merlyn spoke to Thea upstairs. The Black Archer had thought that bringing him here was a good idea. Try to repair some of that damage, he had said; he wanted Roy to release his guilt over Thea, only then could he focus on protecting himself. At least, that was their intention, but when they arrived, Thea stopped, stared at the two of them together and then shrugged. Even as he frowned at her, she gestured for him to pour himself a drink. Then she took her father by the elbow and guided him upstairs. 

Roy swirled the contents of his glass around and sniffed deeply as he raised it to his mouth for a sip. It was good, just the right combination of burn and mellowness. He could just hear the whispers of the conversation upstairs, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with him. He had heard Thea mention Ra’s al Ghul and then their voices lowered before he heard anything else. It seemed that Thea had long ago forgotten what happened between them, maybe it was time for him not to feel so guilty about it. Especially as it sullied the memories of two people when he thought about the night he broke it off with her. 

There was a key turning in the lock and Roy glanced around, surprised. He had forgotten that Oliver lived here too. He swore under his breath before taking a step back in surprise.

‘Jacob?’

‘Roy? What the fuck, man? Where have you been?’ He sounded angry as he pointed Oliver towards the sofa and pushed him away. Roy raised his brows as Oliver reluctantly removed his hands from his friend’s torso and staggered erratically towards the couches.

‘I’ve been busy. What’s with him?’

‘He got hammered. And I mean super hammered, like worse than you’ve ever been.’

‘Huh. Really?’

‘Yeah. At least you don’t get all frisky. I swear he was literally humping my leg in the elevator.’

‘Uh…’ Roy stared at him before glancing over at Oliver who had passed out on the couch. The whispering upstairs had stopped too. ‘Um, Thea? Your brother’s drunk.’

Jacob half raised his hand in welcome as she and Merlyn walked down the stairs. He inclined his head at Roy to follow him over to the far corner as Thea poured a glass of water and Merlyn carefully turned Oliver over, so he was sleeping on his side.

‘Hey, Roy, um…’

Roy looked at him, watching his fingers twist the threads of his jumper. ‘Did you guys…?’

‘No way, bro, I wouldn’t do that to you. I know what he means to you. But…’

‘What?’

‘Well, he tried it on. Like more than in the lift, he was out of it, but he still-’

‘And you said no.’

‘Come on, Roy, I love you man,’ Jacob paused as he saw Roy’s eyes widen a little, but pressed on. ‘Hey, I know you and I know you like him, a lot. A lot more than you’ll ever like me.’

‘Jacob.’

‘No, listen, I was gonna tell you this tonight, but, well you never showed up.' He paused a moment before pressing on, 'I’m moving to Central City. I got a new job: KORD Industries. It's been a while coming and I just didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure, and I know it's a long way and we've been friends since we were kids. Even when I went to college, we've been-' He stopped talking and bit his lip, 'Uh Roy…can you say something?’

Roy stared at him for a moment, his thoughts churning rapidly, but then nodded a grin forming on his face, ‘Great news! So you’re a real researcher, now?’

‘Yeah, pretty much. Getting some use outta that degree, huh? But hey, I’m gonna be leaving at the weekend, so I just wanted to make sure you knew before I left. And besides, it’s not like I’m moving across the country, you can still come and visit me, right?’

Roy nodded slowly, ‘Sure, who knows when I’ll be in Central, and I’ll look you up.’

Jacob smiled a little sadly and Roy stared at him before grabbing him into a fierce hug, the other man caught off guard by the intensity, but he wrapped his arms around his friend and squeezed tightly. 

‘It’ll be ok, buddy, I can come back any time you need me.’ Jacob let him go and wiped the moisture from his eyes. ‘Ok, I’m gonna go, never liked long goodbyes. I’ll call you before I leave.’

Roy nodded and watched the door shut behind him. He turned, feeling Merlyn’s eyes on him.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. I was just going to say that the less distractions the better.’ 

Roy looked away and grunted before returning to his spot by the window, picking up his glass and continuing to swirl the contents around, even as he still felt that pricking in his shoulder blades as Merlyn stared at him.


	18. Chapter 18

Roy follows Oliver across the buildings and roofs, easily keeping pace with him, finding that sometimes he was the one in front. Roy glanced back at Oliver, seeing him grimace under his hood as he paused by the short wall that ran around the roof, hunched over, his hand reaching under his armour. Roy was about to speak when Oliver’s eyes darted up and silenced him with their hard edge. Oliver straightened up as Roy nodded down at the street nearby.

‘That way.’

‘Got it.’ 

Oliver nodded at him to lead the way and watched as his young partner scaled the walls with ease, jumping the gaps like he was on a level street, not some ten stories up. As much as it galled Oliver to admit it, his side ached when he jumped. He had been strong enough to walk around and to fight in place, but every so often he felt that twinge beneath his pecs which reminded him of how close he had come to death. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

 

Roy jumped down and reached back for his bow, pulling it out as the desperate man glances around him, backing up against the chain-link fence. He had an arrow ready to slot in as Oliver’s heavy thread hit the metal walkway behind him. Just as he was about to arm his bow, a figure in tightly clad leathers dropped onto the ground before him, her metal staff already a blur as she swiped at the suspect, not halting her attack even as he dropped to the ground, rolling into a ball. Roy lowered his bow slowly and glanced over at Oliver, standing still beside him. A wretched coughing drew his attention back to the suspect and he frowned, seeing the dark wetness on the ground, blood dribbling down his chin. Just as Roy opened his mouth to interfere, Oliver spoke up, his words rough through the modulator.

‘Hey! Leave him alone!’

Laurel paused in her attack, having long ago subdued her target, she was now beating him for no apparent reason. Oliver frowned at her, barely recognising the kind hearted woman he once professed to love. He didn’t understand the almost feral grin on her face as she stared back at him, one hand holding the bow-staff with ease, the other reaching up to sweep back the voluminous wig. 

Roy huffs to himself, a secret grin forming on his face; now Oliver can deal with Laurel, let him see just what she has become. He moved in to secure the prisoner and rolled him over gently. Part of Roy hesitated for a moment; the suspect was pretty young, late twenties maybe, his face a bloody bruised mess, already beginning to swell up. But then he crushed that indecision, driving back the wave of emotion that threatened to swarm over him. Maybe it had been those intense sessions with Merlyn lately, but he was finding it harder to keep his emotions from overwhelming him. Something in their last session had just…happened. It wasn’t something physical or even psychological, there was just this emotional gear change in his mind. He remembered sitting there numbly as Merlyn stood up to leave, glancing down at his new student and placing the key to their training loft on the table beside the door. Merlyn didn’t say anything, just left, and Roy had sat there for a while, thinking, mostly about Oliver. It was, he reflected as he finished tying up the suspect, a clear, sudden realisation: Oliver came back. It was simple really, and Roy had started to focus on that part. And when he only thought about that part it all sort of made sense. Of course, he couldn’t quite keep that attitude when he was around the man. There still seemed to be some sort of gulf between them. Maybe it was because Roy hadn’t told Oliver about his partnership with Merlyn. He should have, but some part of him didn’t want to. Oliver was a good teacher for the most part, but he was functional, every piece of training designed to hone some aspect of the ideal archer. Merlyn focused on so much more, and even though they’d only been training for a few short weeks, Roy felt this connection between the two of them, perhaps it was a recognition within each other of the same desire for perfect martial strength. Maybe not. Roy just knew he and Merlyn were a good match, just as Merlyn had predicted in that bar.

 

Oliver sighed to himself and cleared his throat, watching Laurel disappear from view. Her sudden leap towards the tall building nearby had caught him off guard and he concentrated, hearing the whisper-like whirr of a mechanical winch. He frowned at no one in particular and gestured for Roy to come join him. The younger archer finished restraining their suspect and walked over to him. Oliver inclined his head in Laurel’s direction.

‘Has she…?’

‘Oh yeah, now you get what I was dealing with while you were…’

‘Away.’

‘Saving Thea.’

Oliver frowned again and glanced at Roy, was there an edge to that response or was he imagining it? ‘Still bitter about that, huh?’ He replied quickly, testing the waters.

Roy didn’t respond, just flicked his head towards the prisoner. ‘What about him?’

‘He’s Lance’s, not much point talking if his jaw is broken. Come on.’ Oliver leads him back up into the jungle of pipes and vents in the rooftop kingdom, ignoring the lancing pain in his chest. 

 

Roy walked quickly down the metal staircase, sweeping past Diggle’s raised brows and shaking his head slightly as Felicity turned towards him. Oliver followed him and slammed his bow down on the metal table nearby. He had been getting into a fouler and fouler mood as they got closer to the Arrowcave, and Roy just tried to avoid it. He guessed it was a combination of Laurel’s actions and the obvious pain in his chest. Roy spotted him rubbing it gingerly as they dismounted, although once Oliver realised he was looking, his hand was quickly dropped to grab his bow. Roy wasn’t that surprised really, from Felicity’s description of the wound, it was barely healed at all, mostly bound tight and just now, weeks later, was it starting to scab. 

Roy placed his bow careful into the case and tried to ignore the raised voices behind him. Oliver was berating Diggle for allowing Laurel to ‘cavort around like that,’ whatever the hell that meant. And then Felicity’s higher tone echoed in his ears as she went to Diggle’s defense, Oliver started yelling back at them. Roy closed his eyes tight, long forgotten memories welling unwillingly to the surface. He thought those bad times had been locked away for good. He let his forehead rest against the cool glass as the loud voices raged behind him, taking on the harsh tones of his father and the desperate pleading strain of his mother’s high, lilting voice. Roy felt his knees buckle as that last, terrible memory came rushing back to him. It had almost choked him completely when he felt a strong, reassuring grip on his bicep. He flicked his eyes open to look at Merlyn standing off in the shadows. Something in the man’s gaze seemed to resonate with him and Roy felt the clutch of panic recede back into his mind, his legs straightening out. He held those steely eyes for a moment until Merlyn moved forward to speak to Oliver, a slip of paper pressed firmly into his hand as it moved down his arm and into Roy’s soft palm. 

Roy took a breath and felt himself calm down, turning to lean against the armour case as Merlyn walked forward and Oliver’s expression struggled between a glare of annoyance and his normal neutral look. Roy let his head rest against the glass as he reached in for a cloth to wipe the black camo paint from around his eyes. He ignores their conversation for the most part until he hears Thea’s name. He glances over to see Oliver’s face twist into a mean look as Merlyn shrugs his shoulders, throwing his last words over his shoulder as he leaves.

‘It’s your choice, Oliver, but I don’t see us doing this without her.’

Roy hums to himself and turns away from Oliver to glance down at Merlyn’s neat handwriting: ‘2am, the Loft.’ That’s what they had taken to calling their training grounds and Roy kinda liked it, liked that Merlyn trusted him enough to give him his own key after a week training there. Although, Roy mused as he shredded the paper, it was kinda weird that Thea was a floor beneath them; he had seen her come and go enough times to be sure it was her. Roy turned back in time to see Oliver approaching him and he flicked the tiny scraps of paper away from him into a dark corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I updated, even if it is a small chapter. Needed some time. More to come.


	19. Chapter 19

‘Hey Roy, are you ok?’ Oliver looked at him, concern clear on his face, his tone gentler than usual. 

‘Yeah, of course,’ Roy made as if to shrug it off, but there was that strange feeling in his stomach again. Not fear exactly, not anxiety, but something. He felt the urge to pull back from Oliver, but that was more to do with his recent shouting match with Felicity and Diggle than anything he was doing now. Oliver frowned at him for a moment before nodding slowly, biting on his lip.

‘Oh, yeah, right. So, uh, Merlyn reckons telling Thea is the only way to move forward. What do you think?’

‘Do you really trust Malcolm Merlyn?’

‘No. Of course not.’ 

‘Then why take his advice?’ Roy reached back to scratch his neck, ‘I mean, sure I understand why you want to tell her, but don’t you think she’ll be mad when she realises you’ve been lying to her this whole time?’

Oliver nodded slowly, watching Roy’s movements, ‘Yeah, I guess. It’s just…I’m tired of the lies, I’m tired of carrying all this extra weight about pretending to be the washed up failure of a billionaire. I just want to focus on bring Ra’s al Ghul down, once and for all. And…’

‘You can’t do that if your attention is on being two people.’ Roy finished the sentence for him. ‘Yeah, I can understand that.’ He paused, searching Oliver’s eyes for some hidden agenda, finding it pretty quickly. ‘There’s something else?’

‘Yeah.’ Oliver hesitated before continuing on, ‘I know we haven’t really talked much over the last few weeks, and I know you don’t particularly want to. But let me say this,’ He added quickly as Roy opened his mouth to interject. ‘I’m not trying to force you into anything, and to be honest I’m not exactly in the right place for you and me to become-‘

‘I don’t want to discuss it Oliver. It’s not happening right now. Neither of us…What’s your point?’ Roy struggled for the words, surprised at how easy it felt to let Oliver go, when all of last year was focused on even getting to this point. But it was realistic after all. Oliver was still recovering, his aim squarely on taking down Ra’s and Roy just didn’t feel like getting involved with all that shit. He didn’t want to put himself at risk emotionally while Oliver decided he wanted to do it physically, he didn’t even consult Roy before the fight, for fuck’s sake!

‘Don’t you think it’s gonna be…weird between the three of us?’ Oliver looked at him.

Roy shrugged, confused. ‘No. Why would it be?’

‘Yeah. Guess not.’ Oliver nodded at him and turned away, his expression harder to read this time. Roy let him walk, gnawing at his nails as he thought. Why did Oliver think it’d be weird between them? It wasn’t as if Thea knew he was interested in Oliver that way…

 

Roy rolled over, reaching blindly for his phone on the bedside table, swiping the icon roughly. ‘Yeah?’ he grumbled into the phone.

‘Uh, hi, Roy. It’s Oliver.’

‘Ugh.’

‘Um, did I wake you? It’s like three in the afternoon.’

‘Mmh.’ Roy sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he glanced towards the dull light coming in from the shuttered windows. ‘Yeah, I know. Late nights, you know.’

‘Right, right.’ Oliver sounded a little strange and Roy frowned at his tone.

‘What is it Oliver? You need me?’

‘Oh, uh, no. Not right now. But, um, well I told Thea. This morning, you know, so…now you know.’ Oliver stumbled over his words as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Roy was silent for a minute. ‘Roy? You still there?’

‘Yeah, yeah. I’m here. I just don’t know what to say. Good?’

‘Well yeah. She took it really well. I think she suspected as much.’

‘Well your sister’s sharp. She figured me out pretty quick. Uh, by the way did you tell her anything about-‘

‘No.’ Oliver interrupted quickly, ‘No, I thought since we’re still just friends it’d be easier that way, right?’ His tone reached out to Roy, looking for confirmation, and the younger man nodded to himself.

Aloud he replied, ‘Yeah. For now. It seems a bit unfair to tell her you’re the Arrow and my…Well soon enough.’

‘Right.’ Oliver hesitated after Roy’s deliberate pause, his unwillingness to say the word “boyfriend” irritating him a little. But Oliver had said it himself; they were just friends. He quickly changed the subject, feeling his cheeks burn a little. ‘Hey, uh, you want to do some training this evening? We haven’t really done it together since I got back.’

‘Shit.’

‘What?’

‘Uh, no, not you. Sorry, Oliver, I just forgot something really important. I gotta go. See ya.’ Roy rushed out the words and hung up quickly before Oliver could react. He tossed his phone aside and reached under his bed for the second one, tapped to the underside of the wooden frame. Roy turned it on quickly, glaring at the screen, urging it to boot up faster. It finally finished and Roy hurriedly went into the contacts screen, there was only one number there. He quickly pressed the call button, his heart hammering as it rang out. There was a click as it connected.

‘You’re late. In fact, you’re not even here.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that.’ Roy got up from the bed and moved towards his closet. ‘I fell asleep, was out all night doing the superhero thing with Oliver.’

‘Oh I know,’ Merlyn chuckled on the other end, ‘I was watching. You’re a lot faster than him.’

Roy ripped off his vest and pulled a t-shirt on quickly as he replied, ‘He’s still recovering, so he’s bound to be slow. Still, that wasn’t our biggest problem.’

‘That woman, the false Canary.’

‘Uh huh, Laurel Lance, Sarah’s sister.’ Roy added as he searched through his clothes for a fresh pair of jeans. ‘She has potential, but squanders it by not listening to us. I’ve told her a dozen times what she needs to do.’

‘Roy.’ Merlyn sounded irritated on the other end. ‘Why waste your time and energy on her? I saw that it was Oliver arguing with her last night. Just leave them wear each other down.’

‘Hmm.’ Roy finished getting dressed as he pulled his battered runners on. ‘That sounds interesting. But, uh, do you still want to meet up for a session?’

‘Yeah.’ Merlyn’s response was quick, his tone somewhat hesitant, but Roy could hear the strain in the man’s voice, as though he was repressing some other emotion. ‘I actually want to talk to you about something. It’s important.’

‘Ok, no problem. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.’

‘Good. Thanks Roy.’ Merlyn hung up and Roy looked down at the phone, surprised at his mentor. Merlyn was usually quite indifferent around him, but there had been genuine gratitude in his voice. Roy shrugged as he looked around, seeing the sharp edges of his security system glinting in their shadows. He had put in the traps after catching a would-be thief in the act of breaking in his back window. Needless to say that particular burglar wouldn’t be thieving for some time with his broken fingers. Roy backed out of the room and made for the front door, grabbing the keys to his motorbike as he went.

 

Roy took the stairs two at a time, reaching the penthouse levels just as he was running out of breath. He always went this way to avoid any of the other residents; none of them seemed to use the stairs, plus he didn’t want to have an awkward meeting with Thea, good luck trying to explain that one. He took the key from his pocket and opened the door in front of him, entering silently. Merlyn was standing with his back to him, staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the dying sunlight as it pierced the buildings around them. The yellow light reflected off the man’s immaculate suit and Roy slowed to a stop behind him. He waited there, knowing that the Black Archer was aware of his presence. After a moment Merlyn turned to look at him. His face was hard to read, he looked a little more morose than usual and Roy tilted his head a little as he caught a glimpse of the man's eyes.

‘Something happened.’ It was more of a statement than a fact and Merlyn nodded in reply. Roy thought for a moment before he realised. ‘Oliver told Thea. I thought that was what you wanted?’

‘Wanted, yes.’ Merlyn repeated the words back to him, ‘But I…didn’t expect the depth of her reaction.’

‘Huh? Oliver said it went well.’

‘Did he now?’ Merlyn replied bitterly, ‘Yes I expect it felt that way. I spoke to her an hour ago. She gave me one look and shut the door in my face. Even after I picked the lock, she stormed away. She’s made her position pretty clear: I’m not wanted anymore.’

Roy frowned, ‘She’s your daughter.’

‘I know. I’m not saying I’m giving up, but the fact is she’d rather have Oliver over me, despite my protection. I’m only concerned with keeping her safe, not the city.’ He added in response to Roy’s questioning look.

The younger man nodded slowly, ‘Yeah. That makes sense. But it still sucks, right?’

‘Indeed.’ Merlyn looked more angry than sad now as he went back to staring out the window, his next words muttered just below his breath, probably not expecting Roy to hear him. ‘My list of allies grows thin.’

‘Hey. You still have me.’ Roy surprised Merlyn by speaking out so firmly, the man looked back at him.

‘Yes, yes I do.’ Merlyn swallowed, coming closer to him, ‘And right now Roy, you’re the only one I’ve got left.’ The words were sincere and Roy felt his cheeks burn as Merlyn stared at him. He made as if to brush off the words, but Merlyn continued on, ‘I need you Roy Harper.’

‘…’ 

He paused for a moment, unsure how to respond. Merlyn’s words had slipped under his guard and touched a nerve. There was something in the way the older man had said it, it just connected right at the heart of him. It was, he realised later, because of all the people he had in his life, from Thea to Oliver to Diggle and Felicity, none of them ever said they needed him. Sure Oliver had said a few times that he wanted Roy, for one thing or another, but never that he _needed_ him. But here was Merlyn and his voice said it, and so did his eyes as Roy tilted his head up to meet that stare. Gone was the cold marble gaze and in its place was something almost... Roy nodded briefly and turned away from him, heading toward the practice swords. He knew he shouldn’t trust Merlyn, to believe him, but part of him really wanted to.

 

Roy frowns at the screen, as Felicity replayed the clip. ‘Again?’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m not getting tired of it!’ She replied, stifling her laugh as Oliver pushed Roy gently to one side, hands pressed carefully against his ribs. She glanced up at him. ‘Oh, Oliver! Have you seen Laurel?’

Roy pointed at the screen and Oliver looked down, his face turning grim as they watched Laurel darting in front of the gathered cameras and punching the crazed security guard squarely on the jaw. Roy winces again, just as he did the first four times, as Felicity laughed aloud.

‘Some right hook on that girl!’ Roy muttered as Oliver turned away, anger obvious in his eyes. They watched as Oliver silently left, before turning to each other and re-watching the clip again.

 

‘Laurel! What the hell were you thinking?’ Oliver growls into his phone, barely letting the woman respond before he hung up with an angry demand. ‘Get down here! We need to talk.’ He grinds his teeth, an echo of Roy as he paces up and down before the bar, glancing around the empty dance floor. Laurel didn’t leave him waiting long and he glanced up as her sharp heels clicked across the floor. He glared at her, receiving an equally fierce stare in return. She was about to speak before he shook his head and pointed towards the Arrowcave.

‘Come on.’

Laurel closed her mouth, frowning at his back, but followed him down the stairs. She smiled a little as she noticed both Roy and Felicity were re-watching her taking down the guard. Her smile withered as Oliver gestured for her to come away from the others.

Oliver was furious, he could feel the anger bubbling up inside him as he leaned his hands against a training target. He felt like he had had this conversation with Laurel a thousand times already, but she wouldn’t listen. It all seemed to go in one ear and out the other, as she shrugged off his words, not seeming to care that he had only her best interests at heart. Maybe if tried a different track… He turned to face her again as Felicity glanced back at them. Oliver paused.

‘Uh, Felicity, maybe do some analysis instead?’

She smiled sweetly at him, ignoring the edge to his voice, ‘Already have, Oliver. Journalist nearby dosed the guard, facial recognition is complying now. Should have a match in a moment.’

‘Huh.’ Oliver grunted. ‘Laurel? I don’t get it, why didn’t you leave it to the cops to take him down?’

‘Would you have?’

‘Not if it blew my cover.’ Oliver replied honestly, adding, ‘Look, beating up thugs in back alleys is one thing, but out in public, our anonymity is the only thing that protects us, and those we love.’ He saw her pause at that, he was about to continue when Felicity called over to him.

‘Oliver. I’ve got a positive ID, address is being confirmed now.’

‘Good. Suit up.’ He adds in Roy’s direction, before slapping Laurel’s hands away from one of Sarah’s devices. ‘Not you.’

‘Oliver! Come on, I can definitely do this with you guys. Me and Roy kicked ass against Brick.’ Laurel looked over to Roy for support but he was deliberately avoiding her gaze and he heard her huff angrily at him. But Merlyn was right, Oliver was dealing with it now. Let him have all the drama that went with it. Maybe he could train her: a new sidekick. He didn’t know why but that thought didn’t seem to have the savage connotations it normally did. He walked over towards his armour and heard Oliver whispering furiously to Laurel about the dangers of his "crusade." 'Yeah, ‘cos that’ll scare her off.' Roy thought to himself as he opened the case.

Roy quickly stripped out of his clothes, wriggling into the tight fitting pants and pulling on the buckles as he continued to overhear Laurel bickering with Oliver. He paused halfway to pulling off his t-shirt and glanced back towards them, his eyes briefly connecting with Oliver’s. He sees the older man frown before nodding slightly, and then following Laurel as she storms outside. Roy continues to gear up and reaches inside the case for the jacket part of his armour. 

He has it pulled on nice and tight, the shoulders feeling a little strained as he struggled to loosen the laces at the sides. Just as he is about to zip it all up, Felicity rips out a sheet from the printer and yells over to him, ‘Roy! Got the co-ordinates. Tell Oliver we’re ready.’ He sighs and puts down the camo paint, his jacket still hanging open as he runs across the room towards the alley. Oliver seems to have lost the argument with Laurel, as Roy spots her jogging away even as the older man calls out to her. Roy wets his lips and waits until Oliver is looking at him.

‘Hey, uh, Felicity has the address. We’re good to go.’

Oliver was staring at him and Roy glanced down at his open jacket, seeing that a strip of his smooth flesh was visible from his collar bones to his naval and he looked back up at Oliver. ‘You’re staring.’

‘Oh, uh, sorry.’

‘Don’t know why, you’ve seen me shirtless before.’ Roy shrugged as Oliver didn’t reply. ‘Well, I’m gonna grab my bow. You coming or what?’

Oliver blinked as Roy turned away, there had been something so sexy about him right there, and Oliver couldn’t have looked away if he had to. But as Roy went back inside he composed himself and followed him.

 

Roy licked his lips as he waited for Oliver to catch up. He was standing right outside the reporter’s door, bow out and armed, but the Arrow had to take a break after climbing the stairs up to the top floor. He had been breathing heavily, almost hoarsely, clutching his injured side. Roy glanced down the corridor as Oliver nodded at him.

‘Ready?’

‘Yeah. Go.’

Roy drew a quick breath a shouldered the door open, busting in as the journalist jumped in surprise. He glanced around quickly, confirming they were alone, and then approached the man, his bow pointing at him. Oliver stalked in after him and glares at the reporter. Roy frowned, there was something off about this whole thing. The man was already quaking in terror, sweat pouring down his face and Oliver hadn’t even threatened to shoot his kneecaps off yet…

‘Arrow?’ Roy warned, his voice distorted by the modulator. 

Oliver ignored him, ‘You! Tell me where the Fear Merchant is!’

The man didn’t answer, just pulled open his jacket and lifted his hand, detonator shaking in his grip, thumb hovering over the button. His body was strapped all the way around with semtex packages. Roy swore and Oliver quickly changed track.

‘Wait! You don’t have to do this.’

‘He said my family would be safe.’ The man stammered as Oliver put away his bow and held both hands out to him, palms up. 

‘We can protect you. You just have to let us help.’

There was no response as the man looked desperately at Oliver. Roy grinds his teeth watching Oliver trying to talk him down. This was stupid; why not just shoot him and disarm him? It wasn’t as if there was a dead man’s switch. Roy sighs as he sees that flicker in the man’s eyes: he’s going to push the button and nothing Oliver can say will stop that.

‘He said, he said my family will be safe. But only if you die.’ 

Almost in slow motion Roy watched him press the button as Oliver cried out and he himself cursed. They both ran towards the windows as the semtex detonated, the first blast pushing them out the window, the glass crashing down among them. Then the heat rushed out to greet them, Roy feeling it singe the backs of his shoulders as he sailed out from the building. All too soon time sped back up as he found himself falling towards the cars parked below the office. He covered his face with his arms as he impacted on his side.  
The impact smashed the breath from his lungs as the roof collapsed under him, the windscreen exploding in a shower of razor sharp shards around him. Roy groaned as pain bloomed in his arms and legs and ribs. Pretty soon everything hurt. He couldn’t move, but he heard Oliver roll over nearby. It seemed he was in better shape after the fall, even with his injuries. He was up and moving towards Roy, the younger man could see him in the corner of his eye, but just couldn’t move without a fresh wave of pain rolling over him. The armour had absorbed some of the force and had kept the majority of the glass from penetrating, but it had never been designed for that level of impact. Roy felt his lungs burn as he gasped for air, his left hand seemed to have been cut badly on the glass; he could feel his fingers twitch in the blood as it ran down his arm into his palm. He struggled to remain awake but couldn’t. He was almost sure it was Oliver standing in front of him, so he wasn’t sure why he muttered, ‘Merlyn…’

 

Oliver picked him up gingerly, even as his own ribs complained, but he could already hear the sirens screaming down the street. The office had obviously been gutted by the fire, but as Oliver moved away from the damaged cars he noticed the blackened masonry lying nearby. The blast had been powerful enough to blow out the walls and roof of the upper floor, they were lucky to avoid the falling debris. Still, he reflected as he moved Roy around in his arms, it was bad enough. The man was heavier than Oliver thought, he could feel the extra muscle mass in his arms and chest and Oliver had to stop and prop him up against the wall. The sirens were coming closer, but Oliver wasn’t sure he could get out of the area and bring his unconscious sidekick with him. 

A car pulled up nearby and Oliver glanced towards it, reaching back for his bow. The vehicle purred as it rolled closer to them, windows completely blacked out, Oliver seeing that it was some sort of sports car, the black carapace shiny in the reflection from the burning building. He watched it suspiciously until the driver door opened and a hooded figure stepped out. Oliver cursed internally, but he waited until the figure removed his hood to be sure.

‘Merlyn. Perfect timing.’ Oliver drawled.

The Black Archer didn’t reply, just opened the passenger doors and gestured impatiently. Oliver and Merlyn took hold of Roy and laid him down across the back seats as they jumped into the front ones. Oliver gritted his teeth in mixed anger and pain as Merlyn revved the engine and sped off down the street towards the Glades, passing the fleet of fire engines and police cars coming in the opposite direction. Oliver fought the urge to question Merlyn’s presence, instead he glanced back at Roy, noticing he was still out. As they passed into a well-lit street, Oliver hummed nervously at the sight of the slowly drying blood on the younger man’s gloves and the trickle that had become a flood down one side of his face. Merlyn seemed to know where he was going, and it was only until they screeched to a stop that Oliver realised he was outside of Roy’s house in the Glades. How the Black Archer knew how to get there was a mystery, although knowing Merlyn, it didn’t surprise Oliver that he knew where Roy lived. He probably knew where all of Oliver’s team lived, the Arrow mused to himself as he got out of the car. 

Merlyn helped him carry Roy out and up the steps to his house. But once there he wordlessly passed the weight onto Oliver and went back to his car. Oliver glared at him as the sleek sports car pulled out into the street and disappeared from view.

‘Figures.’ Oliver muttered to himself as he patted the doorframe for the hidden key that Roy had told him about. He was determined this time to avoid any of the elaborate security traps the young archer had put in. Oliver managed to make it to the bedroom without anything trying to impale, stab, slice or cut him open. Pushing the door open, Oliver throws himself to the side as a dagger is launched from the far side of the room.

‘Agh!’

He swears under his breath before glancing behind him where the knife had dug into the wall. Just as well Roy owned the house…

Oliver placed him gently on the bed, pulling back his hood and peeling off the tacky gloves from his bloodied hands. He plucks out the most obvious of the shards of glass from his left hand and quickly checks him out for any major injuries. The armour was too tight to take off without hurting him more, so Oliver pauses for a moment before reaching into one of his pockets for a bundle of herbs. He had taken to carrying the plant with him lately, a quick pinch crumbled between his fingers relieved the ache in his ribs whenever he pushed himself too far. Oliver broke some of the leaves up and got a little water from the nearby bathroom, mixing the two together until it formed a paste. He spread it over Roy’s cuts and waited until it set. Oliver watched as Roy seemed to settle down, his breathing easier now. Oliver strokes his forehead fondly before remembering his own injuries. As much as he wishes to stay with Roy, he knows it’s best to let him recover in peace.

Oliver sighs to himself as he walks down the street. ‘Ra’s al Ghul. Once he is…dealt with, then, Roy, then we’ll be together.’ Oliver mutters the promise to himself as he limps back towards the foundry.

 

Roy moved in his sleep as another shadow entered the room, taking up Oliver’s vacated position. Malcolm Merlyn looks down on him as he pulls off his gloves. He had waited until Oliver was out of sight before he entered the room. His entry into the house had been made easier by the Arrow as he followed Oliver’s path in, hiding in the kitchen while the archer lingered in Roy’s room. But then he had left and Merlyn slipped out from the shadows. Now he reached over and turned on the bedside light, the soft glow making Roy shift again, but remain asleep. Merlyn carefully ran his eyes across Roy’s wounds, nodding as he noted Oliver’s attempts to heal the cuts. Merlyn went into the bathroom, searching around until he found what he needed. Returning to the bed, he pulled up a nearby chair and set to work washing away the blood from Roy’s face and hands before it dried into that disturbing red blackness. His task finished, Merlyn sat back and studied Roy, his thoughts unreadable.

 

When Roy wakes up the next morning he’s alone, but he sees from the chair nearby that someone had been watching over him as he slept. His brow furrowed for a moment before he glanced down at his stinging hands. The wounds were well on their way to being healed, and Oliver’s herbal paste had been absorbed. He could faintly smell it as he raised his hand up to his nose. But there was something else, he looked around, another scent so familiar, but he just couldn’t…Wait, of course! Merlyn. He had such distinct aftershave, and Roy was used to smelling it as they trained every day in close quarters fighting. So, had he been the one here all night? He must have been, Oliver would have waited, right?

Roy wanders into Verdant after about an hour, his armour in a bag beside him, the blood washed out, but the rips and tears still present. He planned to head down to the Arrowcave to get the replacement parts that had been shipped with the suit. It seemed like years ago since he had got it. Another lifetime. His head was down as he walked across the sunlit dance-floor, moving around the person in front of him until Thea called out his name.

‘Huh?’ He looks up to see her smiling at him. ‘Oh hi. Sorry, thinking to myself.’

‘I could see that.’ She replied, her expression turning to concern as she saw his heavily bandaged hands and the cut above his eye. ‘Oh my god, Roy! Are you ok?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He brushed aside her concern. ‘It’s ok, just part of the job, you know.’

‘Yes. I know all about it now.’

‘Right. Of course.’ Roy replied, feeling himself smile. ‘So you’re ok with it all?’

‘Strangely yes. Of course finding out that Merlyn’s been trying to kill my brother hasn’t exactly been the family reunion I was after.’ Thea sighed.

‘You thought you could get them to talk? Have them both in your life?’

‘Well, yes. At least when Ollie was just a…well normal…I don’t know. They certainly seemed to have teamed up though.’ She sounded angry and Roy frowned.

‘I don’t understand. If they’re friendly, then what’s stopping you from being a sort of happy family?’ 

‘Did I mention that Merlyn wants my brother dead? Or wanted, or whatever.’ She glared at him as if it was his fault, but Roy just shrugged. ‘But, this Ra’s guy is after Merlyn and me, so Oliver thinks it’ll be easier if we have Merlyn’s help.’

‘Hmm.’ Roy stayed neutral, ‘What do you think?’

‘I think I want to get as far away from Malcolm Merlyn as I possibly can.’

Roy smiled again, nodding, ‘Yeah, that’d be a good idea.’ So it was true, Merlyn really did need him. ‘I get that this is a bit overwhelming and all, but at least we don’t have to hide anymore.’

‘Yeah,’ she responds with a grin, ‘So that is you in the red outfit I see on the news. Looking good by the way!’ 

Roy shrugs modestly and nods, ‘Yeah, well the Arrow did save my life, things just fell into place and now we’re a team. I owe him a lot, who knows where I’d be with the Hood.’ He let that last part slip out, but then cursed himself as he noticed her eyes widen slightly; she did remember after all.

‘Wait, didn’t you…?’

Roy sighs, ‘Yeah, hero worship, that’s all.’

‘Well, of course,’ Thea smiles at him, thinking it over. ‘Oliver’s had more girlfriends than most people have-‘

‘Yeah I know. He’s just…I know it’s your brother, but the Arrow’s kinda hot.’ 

She laughs at him and he can’t help but blush, ‘And what about Oliver?’

‘I guess, I mean it’s the mask really…’ he trails off, ‘Oliver’s ok, I suppose.’

‘Just ok?’ Roy flushed harder as Oliver came around the corner to see them talking, his eyes twinkling as Roy stammered in surprise. 

‘Uh…uh.’

Thea laughed again and waved him over. ‘Honestly! What is it Ollie?’

‘Hey, uh, can I borrow him for a second?’ 

‘Hehe, apparently he’s been more yours than mine lately, so…yup.’

Roy glanced at her and sighed resignedly as he saw the repressed laughter in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a good feeling about this chapter as I wrote it. Hopefully you enjoyed it!


	20. Chapter 20

Roy followed Oliver as he took the stairs to the Arrowcave quickly, wondering what the hurry was. As he descended Roy noticed that Felicity’s station was a hive of activity, all the monitors active as she typed furiously, numbers scrolling by on one screen, while another was being enlarged to a grid of the city. He glanced over to the fourth monitor as they walked towards her and saw the subtle black stencilling of the ARGUS logo along the bottom right of a live feed from one of the satellites over Starling. 

‘Uh, guys? What’s going on?’ He asked nervously, stopping at Oliver’s shoulder and looking past it to see what Felicity was typing. Diggle finished reloading his gun and came to stand next to them. Oliver had a strange expression on his face, not quite a smirk, but almost as if he was waiting on something.

‘I’m not sure.’ Felicity answered slowly, ‘Oliver said to bring up all the live feeds of Starling City, but that’s it.’

‘Cryptic.’ Roy looked sideways at Oliver but the man stayed silent, arms folded. He hummed for a moment and opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden urgent beeping distracted him.

‘Woah.’ Felicity looked at the screen to her left, then all around as the beeping spread from each monitor to the next. She typed quickly, then looked back at Oliver. ‘It’s one of your tracking devices. Pinging off a tower next the docks. I don’t know-‘

‘Laurel.’ Oliver interrupted calmly.

Roy frowned, ‘Damn Oliver I’m sorry, I thought I had them all accounted for. I know she raided our supplies when you were gone.’ He looked apologetically at the archer, ‘So do you think she’s calling for our help?’

‘Nope. And don’t worry, you had them all, I did it.’

‘You tagged laurel with a tracer?’ Diggle breaks in, brows raised in surprise.

Oliver shrugged, ‘If she’s going to be reckless, I need to know where she is. And if she’s going after the Fear Merchant on her own…’

‘Yeah, this is pretty much her in a nutshell.’ Oliver turned frowning, but Roy half shrugged and explained. ‘What? You didn’t have to deal with her when she started out, cheesy one-liners and no tactics, not exactly a fun night out, Oliver. And that armour, pfft!’

‘What, not a fan of tight fitting leather?’

‘Well, not on women!’ He returns with a flirty wink as Oliver grins and Felicity snorts into her coffee. Diggle just groans and throws his quiver at him. 

 

Oliver gestured for Roy to stay low and wait while he scouted the area quickly. Roy nodded and glanced around, ill at ease crouched behind the metal container. He could hear the muffled grunts and sounds of a fight from a few boxcars away and gritted his teeth as he could practically see Laurel getting beaten up. He might not have liked her as a vigilante, but sitting here doing nothing was just frustrating, he was tempted to hop up and go in fighting when Oliver dropped lightly at his feet.

‘Ok. There’s four guys between us and Laurel. I’ll go get her and you deal with them. You got this, right?’ Oliver asked, concerned that Roy might not be able for it, but the archer shook his head.

‘Don’t worry, Arrow. Rescue her!’ He pulled himself to his feet, bow in his hands as he fired at the first thug, taking him down easily. Oliver was up and moving behind him, as he jump kicked the second thug back into a crate, knocking him out with ease. Then they were in the open and Roy ran across it quickly, tackling one of the men wielding a machine gun, twirling around and using his weight to pull him to the ground. A swift punch to the temple knocked him out. Roy looked up as Oliver ran past, jumping up and over the final container. He has to duck then as a hail of bullets rattle across the top. Roy cursed and looked around, trying to identify the attacker. Another round and then Roy spots his feet, he drops to his side and clumsily loads his bow, his bandaged left hand slowing him. He got the arrow fitted at last, even as both Felicity and Oliver were yelling at him to hurry up. He just cursed under his breath at them both and fired. The arrow fell short, so he grabbed one of his darts and flung it at the man’s legs, hitting him in the knee. He howled as he fell over, machine gun clattering to the ground. 

Oliver muttered a quick thanks and was over the side of the container, bow pointing at the Fear Merchant, he didn’t hesitate and fired over Laurel’s barely conscious body throwing the man backwards as it impacted his Kevlar vest. Oliver ran forwards to help Laurel, wincing as he saw her injuries, the blood pouring down her face, eyes wild and limbs quaking as the Vertigo consumed her. Roy joined him and took a quick look before the roaring of a truck engine stole his gaze. He watched the Fear Merchant limp up from where Oliver had shot him and dive into the back of the open truck. Roy raised his bow and quickly notched an explosive arrow without fumbling this time. He almost had the shot when he felt Oliver's hand on his arm pressing down.

‘Leave it.’

‘What? I have him.’

‘No. We need to get Laurel out of here now.’

‘But-‘

‘Now Roy!’ Oliver snapped at him as he picked Laurel up, missing Roy’s frustrated scowl as he did so. They could have got him, if they didn’t have to wait for Laurel. He sighed to himself, giving the direction the truck went a wistful stare, before turning away and following Oliver back to the bikes.

 

Roy drops his bow off at the weapons bench and pulls off his mask and hood as Oliver comes in, Laurel hanging in his arms. Felicity jumps up and pulls a metal bench from the back as Diggle searches through the medical supplies for a drip bag and tubing.

‘What is it, Oliver? Vertigo?’

‘Yeah, Dig. Get the blue bottle, yeah that one. Start off at 10cc and we’ll monitor from there.’ He replied, placing her down gently. Roy watched in silence as Felicity took the needle from Diggle and carefully lined it up. He frowned when he saw Thea come out from behind Diggle. She looked a little scared, although he wasn’t sure if it was from their efficacy at treating medical injuries or from the blood covered body of Laurel. A little of both he guessed. Thea swore under her breath, but Oliver turned around and glared at her.

‘What are you doing here? Get the hell out?’

‘I, I just came down to-‘

‘I don’t care. This is serious Thea!’

‘Hey!’ Roy snapped at Oliver, forcing the older man to look at him in surprise. ‘You don’t get to talk to her like that.’

Oliver frowned at him, surprised as much by the challenge in Roy’s voice as the tone. ‘Excuse me? She’s my sister, and she doesn’t need to see this!’ He gestures at Laurel as she begins to shake on the table, more blood rolling down her face as she fights off the effects of the powerful drug. Thea stares at her in horror, but then feels the anger in the room between Roy and her brother.

‘Roy, it’s ok, I’ll…’

‘No. You brought her in Oliver, you can’t just decide to tell her everything and try to hide the bad stuff! Shit like this happens a lot and you have to let her make up her mind if she just wants you as the fluffy superhero who never gets hurt or the truth where people fucking die! Where we bleed and break and hurt.’

Oliver ground his teeth in response, ‘Roy, I’m warning you, stop this.’

Roy glared back at him as Thea shrinks back a little as the two of them argue. But then Roy shakes his head and focuses on his central core as Merlyn has been training him to do. Despite appearing outwardly angry, he retains a cool head and battles an increasingly frustrated Oliver, gazing at him with calm eyes.

‘Fine.’ Oliver mutters as he breaks eye contact with Roy, ‘Thea, please. This is for your own good.’ She glances at Roy and then over at Laurel, her face concerned as the woman writhes on the metal bench, nonsensical words spilling from her mouth.

‘Yeah. Ok. I’ll, uh, go get a drink…’ She trails off as Oliver forces himself to smile at her, but once she has closed the door behind her, his face reverts to its ugly frown.

‘What the fuck, Roy?’

‘She has her own free will, Oliver, I know you didn’t tell her everything, just so you could start dictating what she can and can’t do. Get in bed with Malcolm fucking Merlyn ‘cos it’s the best plan you got? Team up with him of all people just because it gets you closer to your sister again? You think I’m blind?’ Roy glared at him, voice rising even as he struggled to hold onto that orb of calm in his core.

‘Why are you standing up to me?!’ Oliver roars back at him, his fists curled into balls at his sides.

Roy stares him down, hearing Merlyn’s soothing voice in his mind as he refocuses on his inner core of cool calm emotion, breathing in through flared nostrils. ‘Look, you were dead and gone and we were all alone. So we had to do things differently in order to safeguard the city.’

‘Well, I’m back now!’ Oliver replies through gritted teeth, but Roy just shakes his head slowly.

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you get to bring us back to way things were! You don’t have the right to come back here and question everyone’s choices. I didn’t agree with you telling Thea any more than I did about you joining up with Merlyn. But I led this team while you were in some shack recovering from a battle you never had to fight in the first place. You came back, Oliver, fine. But I’m not keeping quiet any longer, just because you think you’re in charge again!’

Oliver looked between them, seeing the others silently agreeing with Roy. He gasped a little and looked into the hard eyes of his sidekick. 

‘I…’ He shook his head, refusing to continue the argument. ‘Just let me know if there’s any change in her condition.’

Roy snorted as he left, watching Oliver leave, seeing the tiny pause as the older man heard his derision. Roy nodded at Felicity and Diggle for their support before he grabbed his bow and walked out the side exit. The two of them glanced at each other and sighed, avoiding voicing their concerns.

 

Roy grunted as he blocked Merlyn’s attack, the clang of the swords distracting him from thinking about his fight with Oliver. He gritted his teeth as Merlyn pressed the advantage before giving up and letting the blade slide closer towards him. They were blunted blades but still stung a bit if he was hit with the flat side. He glanced up, seeing the victory in Merlyn’s eyes and dropped to the floor, their blades coming apart as he did so. Roy quickly rolled over and sprung up behind Merlyn. He poked the surprised man in the back and grinned. 

‘Huh, aren’t you supposed to teaching me?’

Merlyn turned and smiled slightly, ‘Very good. But if that been real, you’d already be dead. Sloppy guard at the start, poor reflexes when I made the first lunge. Tut, tut.’ He mocked gently, ‘But seriously, there’s something on your mind. You’re normally very focused.’

Roy nodded, accepting the advice and praise from his mentor, before heading over to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down, feeling Merlyn’s eyes on him. After a minute Roy began to speak.

‘I had a fight with Oliver today, bad one too. Funny, it was about you, well, kind of.’

‘Me?’ Merlyn looked surprised. ‘Does he know?’

‘About our…partnership? No. He still thinks I hate you, I must be very convincing though. Told him I didn’t like how he was treating Thea. He didn’t like that so much, but he seems to think he can boss her around just because she knows everything now.’

‘Hmm.’ 

‘I don’t know. I think we’re alright, it’s just having him back is harder than I thought.’ Roy shrugs, drinking the last of his water. ‘Maybe I just didn’t want to give up command of the team, I fought so hard to keep everything and everyone together and he still hasn’t noticed.’ His tone was bitter as Merlyn watched him. ‘Maybe if Laurel hadn’t been there…’

‘You’re a good leader, Roy, strong, powerful, tough, everything this city needs. Oliver’s a fool if he can’t see that, if he doesn’t trust you enough to lead with him.’

Roy nodded slightly, ‘Yeah, maybe.’ Then he frowned, something in Merlyn’s words caught a memory. He picked up his sword again as Merlyn indicated at him with the point of his blade. ‘Hey, when we spoke a few weeks ago, you told me Oliver had a secret, something he was keeping from me.’

Merlyn grinned a shark grin and went on the attack. Clang! Clang! Their swords clashed as the older man forced Roy into an overhead hold, before pulling his sword free. The younger man looked at him expectantly. 

‘Kyle Westen is alive.’

Merlyn scored an easy hit against his chest as Roy’s sword fell from his hands and clattered to the floor.

 

Diggle slides onto the seat beside Oliver and glances at the half empty glass in front of him.

‘Any change?’

‘Laurel’s fine. Sedative has kicked in and she’s coming down nice and even. Felicity’s keeping an eye on her.’ Oliver nodded at Diggle’s words and rubbed a hand over his face.

‘Ugh, how did it all go wrong, Dig? First Laurel, then Thea and now Roy. Again. Always fucking Roy Harper.’

Diggle nodded sympathetically and then stopped. ‘You know Oliver, it was Roy that kept us going. Even when we didn’t want to, even when we stopped believing, it was him who kept going, kept the flame of your crusade burning bright. Sure, we all thought you were dead, but it was Roy who forged your history into a legacy worth continuing.’

Oliver looked over at Diggle, ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it was pretty insane there for a while, but we had everything under control when you came back, maybe you didn’t notice.’ Diggle chided his friend a little. ‘Roy’s a good leader, you know, reminds me of some of my sergeants: tough as iron, brutal as anything and utterly relentless, the kind of man you’d want in a firefight. And right then, in those days we needed him. It might be deep down but he’s a good man, knows what’s right and what’s not.’

Oliver nodded, taking a sip of his drink, before frowning. ‘What do you mean “deep down”?’

‘Err,’ Diggle hesitated.

‘Dig.’ Oliver turned to face him. ‘What is it?’

‘Well, let’s just say that Roy adopted a somewhat unorthodox approach to using Laurel and Merlyn to help him out.’

‘Uh huh?’

‘He basically believed that Merlyn was a weapon and it didn’t matter that he was the one responsible for sending you to face Ra’s. As for Laurel, well, he shared your, uh, concerns, eventually.’

Oliver paused a moment before sighing, ‘Great. No wonder he doesn’t like Merlyn.’

‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly. As much as he’d probably never admit it, Roy and Merlyn are pretty similar. The same drive, Oliver.’ Diggle added as an explanation.

‘Yeah, he’s not the man I left behind.’ Oliver commented as he absorbed this new information. Was Roy scared that he would end up like Merlyn, just a ruthless killer?

‘You died Oliver, I’m just glad he didn’t give us up for the bottle.’

‘It’s not so bad now, right?’

‘Yeah, kinda.’

‘Kinda?’ Oliver looked up in surprise.

‘You should come in earlier.’

 

Merlyn pauses in his attack and Roy aborts his swing at the last moment, letting the sword dig into the wall. They had moved on from the practice blades to the real thing and although he had suffered a few nicks, Roy was enjoying the thrill of the deadly fighting. Until now.

‘What the hell? I nearly cut you in half!’

‘Trouble.’ Merlyn pointed at a monitor and Roy squinted at Thea and some guy, the DJ, maybe? He certainly looked familiar. He watched as they got up and walked towards the counter, Thea pulling on some clothes, even as the guy paraded around shirtless. ‘Go. I’ll be there in a moment.’ Merlyn ordered him in a cool quiet tone and Roy nodded, placing his sword on the counter and picking up his bow. He glances back to see Thea pausing in the act of drinking.

‘Go!’

‘Good job we’re right above them!’ Roy mutters as he leaves in a hurry, jumping down the stairs and running full tilt towards Thea’s apartment, seeing her outline struggling with the guy. He bursts through the door and pushes the attacker away, ‘Get away from her!’ 

They engage and Roy finds himself outmatched almost immediately, he manages a few punches, but the firm muscles of his attacker’s stomach counteract his thrusts. Roy finds himself flipped over the couch and thrust back towards the fireplace, breathless on the hardwood floors, his attacker about to drive the knife into his chest. But the twack of an arrow into his back stops him and Roy looks up to see the man clutching the head of the arrow as blood drips from between his fingers. He glances over and relief surges through him as he spots the Black Archer. Roy reaches up and twists the knife from his grasp, sending it sliding across the floor. Roy’s wounds from last night had pulled open and he winced as he felt blood stain the bandages of his left hand. He gritted his teeth as he clasped the injured limb to his chest and pushed himself up against the nearby piano. 

The guy had turned around to face Merlyn, and Roy watched as Merlyn lined up the killing shot, but before he can take it, the man breaks open a vial of poison and gulps it down. Thea stares at him as he shudders into a heap, the poison killing him quickly, his last words whispered in a language she didn’t understand. Merlyn lowers his bow and walks over the dying man to help Roy up. Roy stands gingerly before he yells in pain, slumping back down.

‘Fuck, my leg!’

‘Could be a torn muscle. Here lean on me.’ Merlyn reaches down for him and Roy clasps his forearm, hauling himself up.

‘Thanks.’ Roy grits his teeth as Merlyn helps him over to the blanket covered couch. They both look over at Thea and she has the decency to blush as they push aside the discarded clothes. Roy rests back as Merlyn tests his leg wincing as the man’s hands press gently on the affected areas.

‘Ow! Fuck, fuck!’

‘You pulled a muscle. Should be fine in a few days.’

‘Great.’ Roy sighs, before lowering his voice, ‘What about him?’

Merlyn looks up at him, their eyes meeting, silently communicating, as Thea mulls around nearby. Roy pauses for a moment, before he nods. Finally Merlyn pulls off his hood and nods at Roy’s pocket. ‘You’re phone is ringing.’

Roy pulls it out and glances at it. ‘Yeah, I’m not gonna take it.’

 

Roy watches as Merlyn pushes a cup of hot tea into Thea’s hands and steers her over to a nearby table. She looks more than a little shocked, and Roy has to wonder if she was still doing the training Merlyn had taught her. Or maybe it was just her first time seeing someone killed in front of her. Or the fact that they had been…a few minutes before. Roy screwed his face up at that one, must be some surprise to find the guy you were fucking was going to kill you after he came. He stood up and hobbled slowly over to where Thea sat, pulling out the chair opposite him. She glanced at him, but quickly looked away, even as he forced a smile.

Merlyn was back quickly, first aid kit in hand. He put it on the table and wrapped the blanket he was carrying around Thea, before pulling out a chair to sit beside Roy.

‘Here, Roy, you’re bleeding pretty badly.’

‘Huh?’ He frowned before looking at the sticky blood on his jacket and the slow puddle forming on the desk in front of him. ‘Shit, I didn’t even notice.’

‘It’s ok. I’ll change the dressing.’ Merlyn assured him as Thea stared through them. The older man worked quickly, unwrapping the sodden dressings and pulling them off carefully. Roy felt sick when he saw the deep cuts in his hand, obviously Oliver’s magic herbs weren’t working. ‘It looks worse than it is.’ Merlyn said as Thea gagged behind them. Roy couldn’t stop his hand from shaking as Merlyn cleaned off the blood as best he could and applied some surgical strips onto the wounds, pressing the edges together, forcing the red archer to look away. Merlyn finished applying the dressing, but squeezed Roy’s palm to get his attention.

‘What?’

‘You need to change this dressing tomorrow morning, if there’s no sign of it healing, go to the ER. You got that?’ Merlyn asked him, Roy was taken aback at the concern in his gaze and nodded.

‘Yeah, makes me miss my super durable body.’ 

Merlyn chuckled softly and patted him on the arm as he urged Thea to drink. Roy watched him clothe the assassin and throw him over his shoulder as he went to dispose of the body.

 

The next two hours were strained and silent between the two of them as Roy tries to avoid saying anything, and Thea tries to catch his eye, to explain or at least offer some sort excuse for…well everything. His thoughts kept wandering to what Merlyn had told him earlier. Kyle… Roy shook his head, not wanting to think about it. He couldn’t, not yet. But Merlyn had been frustratingly vague when Roy had pressed him for the details, avoiding the question, before he finally relented and explained the conversation he had overheard Oliver having. It wasn’t much, but enough to pique the Black Archer’s interest. As for the rest…Roy sighed to himself, if Kyle was alive why hadn’t he contacted him? Or maybe he already had, maybe all those special arrows he had been getting over the past few months had been him all along? Roy scrunched up his face, it was too complicated to think about right now, the throbbing pain in his hand was taking all of his attention.

Roy was relieved when Oliver busted through the door, avoiding his eyes though, the memory of their fight still present in his mind. But Oliver doesn’t seem to care as he approaches their table, his face a mixture of relief and fear. Roy waits for Oliver to embrace Thea and then stands a little unsteadily as he heads for the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Oliver stands up from the hug and reaches out to him.

‘Home.’ Roy grunts out, jaw clasped shut in pain between his hand and leg.

‘Roy.’ The younger man stops and leans against the counter, panting at the exertion, but looking determinedly at the door. Oliver moves over to him and offers him a hand but he shrugs it off. ‘Ok, maybe some painkillers?’

‘No, I can handle it. Just give me a second.’ 

Oliver glances at the couch, the wine, the candles, he frowns and turns to Roy, confusion heavy in his voice. ‘Who was he?’

‘Uh.’ Roy paused as he glanced at Thea.

‘One of Ra’s al Ghul’s agents.’ Merlyn walked in behind him and answered the question. Roy let Merlyn take his arm and lead him back to where Oliver crouched beside Thea. ‘Sit, you shouldn’t be walking on that leg.’

‘It’s nothing.’ Roy says in answer to Oliver’s questioning frown. ‘And I’m fine. I should give you two a moment anyway. It was pretty close, but Merlyn saved her life. Well mine too…’ He trailed off as Oliver glanced to the Black Archer and then re-focuses on Thea. Merlyn releases him and they exchange another look, Thea doesn’t see it and Oliver’s too wrapped up in her to notice Roy nodding at his supposed enemy. Merlyn mouths ‘Later,’ to him and Roy heads for the balcony, leaning against the railings as he just about hears Oliver and Merlyn’s conversation, the words familiar to him as he recalled his first lesson…

‘Before we can begin, there is something you must do. Fear is your enemy’s greatest ally, it can cripple you, break you, stop you from doing what must be done. And that hesitation, that is what will kill you. You must shatter its hold over you. Only then will you be free. Only then can I teach you all I know.

‘So tell me Arsenal, what is it you fear?’

There was silence for a moment and then Roy looked up into those cold blue eyes, the first of many such gazes and nods slowly, feeling the bond between them grow, as it had been doing these last few weeks. Merlyn had saved his life at least twice already, when he could just as easily let him die. Maybe it was time to offer a little trust, to answer truthfully.

‘I don’t want to be left behind.’

 

So Oliver’s leaving again, and for a moment Roy thinks ‘This is it, he’ll finally recognise that I was the one holding it all together for him, not just sustaining his legacy, but expanding it into greatness.’ But no, when the moment comes, Oliver turns to freaking Laurel, of all people, and praises her. Felicity glances to her left, hearing Roy’s teeth grind together. He’s outwardly calm, but inside a whirling maelstrom of anger and resentment engulfs the little oasis of peace he had created, and it’s all he can do not to scream at Oliver, or pick up his bow and shoot Laurel for just being there. For one insane second he feels his fingers twitch, but the next moment he’s back to himself and he nods at Oliver as he leaves.

Roy walks up the stairs to the office and knocks gently as Thea turns around.

‘Hey, uh, I hear you’re leaving for a bit.’ 

‘Yeah, apparently we have to “face our fears!” I don’t know, alone Oliver, though. It feels like years since we just hung out.’

Roy smiled a little, ‘Uh, I don’t think hanging out was what Merlyn had in mind.’

She shrugs at that and smiles in return. ‘Oh well. I guess you and he are pretty tight now? You both saved my life, after all.’

‘Yeah, maybe, that was more of a coincidence, us being there at the same time.’

‘Uh huh.’ She looked at him disbelievingly, ‘So that time about a week ago when you just arrived behind him was a coincidence too?’

Roy didn’t answer and she pursed her lips, ‘Fine, be all secretive and hero-like!’ She approached him then and kisses his cheek gently even as she feels him pull back automatically. But she smiles at him, thanking him for everything. ‘Thanks Roy.’

‘Of course. Following my master’s orders,’ he thinks. Aloud he brushes it off and turns to watch her leave. ‘Have a safe trip Thea, I’ll see you soon.’

Thea nods and pauses at the door, a grin playing about her features as she winks at him, ‘I’ll work on Oliver, see if he’ll wear the mask for you.’ And then with a wicked wink, ‘Just the mask!’

‘Uh…wait!’


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So dialogue is a little light in this one, mainly because I thought it'd be interesting to have a little self-reflection. Also Roy wasn't even in 314!

Roy sighed gently to himself as he looked out across the city from the great glass panes on the top of Thea’s building. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a sip of water. He could just hear Merlyn putting away the practice weapons in the background, they had been training hard for several hours. But they were done now and for once Roy was glad to stop. Merlyn’s style of training was different from Oliver’s; it focused a lot more on direct confrontations than on mastering the self. But it was effective, he felt stronger, faster, more adept at countering melee attacks than before. As much as he loved the bow, the flexibility it offered, Roy had come to enjoy the sword just as much, or the batons strapped to the sides of his shins. There was something about the firm feel of the hilt in his hands, the careful balance of the weapon, the glinting razor sharpness of the blade as it sung and hummed in the air. The clash of steel on steel gave him a buzz that only came to him when he scored a direct hit with the bow. But he didn’t let it bother him, he was Arsenal after all. He should have as many weapons as possible, he should be able to take on any enemy, at any range and beat them. More and more, Roy found himself mixing the styles of his two masters; bow for long range take downs, batons for close range combat. It had been working well in the past few days, dealing with petty criminals. 

Oliver and Thea had been gone for only a few days and already Roy felt the stirrings of unease in his stomach. It wasn’t so much that Oliver had left again, it was the uncomfortable realisation that they would need to “talk” about what happened to Kyle. And Roy didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to bring up something he had repressed and buried so recently. He still didn’t have all the details, knowing only that Oliver knew the man had survived the attack and Merlyn said that the knowledge worried Oliver. Neither of them had managed to find out anymore though, so Roy had gone to the one person who might have. Lyla had been reluctant to help him at first, but something in his voice must have convinced her because she told him it’d take a while to get access to everything, but he’d have the files in a week or two. Roy didn’t care so much if Kyle was alive, only what was Oliver’s involvement. After all, the ARGUS agent had not made any effort to contact him…

‘Huh?’ Roy turned around, hearing Merlyn call his name. ‘Oh right. I’m leaving now.’

‘I can give you a lift. It’s getting cloudy out there. Looks like rain.’

Roy paused a moment, watching as the sun slipped behind the encroaching dark clouds, specks of rain appearing on the glass in front of him. ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

He grabbed his hoodie from the table and followed Merlyn out of the loft and down the stairs towards the exit. Roy hesitated as Merlyn climbed into the back of a black limo but then shrugged and got inside. The interior was comfortable and plush, even if Roy did shift around somewhat. Merlyn spoke quietly to the driver and then they were off, the noise of the engine cancelled out by the rain battering on the roof overhead. Roy settled in and looked out the window as the buildings drifted by in a watery haze.

 

Oliver looked up as a bird squawked and flew out of its tree. He frowned a moment and then rolled quickly out of the way. Thea landed nearby, almost exactly where he had been standing mere moments ago. He grinned briefly at her and brought up his batons in fighting style as she matched his stance. They exchanged attack and counterattack for a while before Thea got the upper hand and tapped her baton against Oliver’s stomach. He nodded once and tossed the batons to one side as they sat down together on a fallen tree, not yet covered by the island’s moss. Thea had been quiet for the last few hours, perhaps mirroring Oliver’s own sober humour. She had been full of talk at first and Oliver quickly realised that she was not really taking their mission seriously, though she was honestly glad to spend time with him. He had responded to her questions absently, his mind somewhere else, on someone else. Even now thoughts of Roy gnawed at him, he was never this hung up about someone, never mind that it was a guy. And the worst part about it all was that Oliver realised he was doing it to himself. He was inventing all these reasons not to go for Roy, all these little fake promises and assurances that later he’d do it, in a few months he’d go for it, when everything was safe for them, then the time would be right. But Oliver was just deluding himself into not acting on his emotions. Of course he blamed Roy a little for this too, not the hiding of his feelings for him, but rather making it easy to put things off. Sure, Roy was the one who had kissed him first and he, Oliver, had pushed him away. But it was Roy who told him he would wait, he would wait until Oliver was ready, until the time was... right. Yeah, well it would never be right, there would always be a threat, there would always be an excuse not to go for it. And Oliver was tired of it.

 

Oliver’s thoughts ran in circles, even as he was training with Thea, or setting up camp or walking around the old landmarks. Roy will wait for him because he’s devoted like that, obsessed even. So it’s ok to put things on hold for months at a time because Ra’s is still alive and the city still needs him and people still want him dead. And after a while it’s at the stage where it’s comfort to know Roy will be there, even if he’s never actually here. So when Thea starts to ask him questions about Roy, discreetly of course and then more obviously, Oliver doesn’t pay it any mind, even when she talks about how surprised she is that Roy isn’t seeing anyone, hasn’t been for a while. And Oliver realises for the first time how awkward it is that he’s into his sister’s ex-boyfriend. That causes him to pause for a minute, but then he shrugs, she did have a big ol’ crush on Tommy, her half-brother, so she can’t exactly judge… 

‘But back to Roy,’ Oliver thinks as they trek through the sodden undergrowth back to camp. He’d had plenty of opportunities to get intimate with the younger man, but he never did, and not for Roy’s lack of trying. It wouldn’t be Oliver’s first time with another man, not exactly, but that wasn’t what was holding him back. Sure he could argue that they work together so it wasn’t wise, but Roy seemed to be doing his own thing these days. So why did Oliver resist? Why didn’t he tell Roy how he really felt, what he really wanted? Maybe, the little niggling voice told him, maybe because you’re afraid. Not afraid that he’d say no, but that he’d say yes. Afraid that something might change in the team. And everything is fine right now. That anger that Roy seemed to have built up while Oliver was away had been spent, now that he understood what had happened to the city. Oliver’s thoughts were interrupted as Thea stopped moving ahead of him. He almost called out before stopping himself, the birds around him were quiet and the forest was still. Too still. He moved up along her and they exchanged a look. Nothing for several minutes then all of a sudden the woodland lapsed back into its natural noises and he felt Thea exhale beside him. Oliver looked around and then started when his Sat-Phone started to buzz beside him.

 

Roy’s eyes met Merlyn’s when he glanced over to the older man, his phone lit up. As he was about to speak, Merlyn raised a finger to his lips and Roy frowned. He smiled briefly and then began to speak. Roy hummed thoughtfully to himself until he heard Merlyn mention Oliver by name. Merlyn had opened the conversation neutrally and Roy just assumed it was business. Beside him in the car, Roy shifts uncomfortably, even as Merlyn glances at him. He wasn’t sure if Merlyn had planned this all along, or had it simply been a coincidence; whether or not it was for him to hear this call. 

‘You lost your duel with Ra’s,’ Merlyn looked at Roy, ‘not because you didn’t want to kill him, but because you hesitated. You were unsure. You need that ironclad certainty if you, or Thea or even I go up against him again.’

Roy frowned at him, able to hear only the tinny echo of Oliver’s response. Merlyn fired him another look before issuing the last instructions. ‘Your Sat-Phone is going to stop working after this call.’ 

‘Seriously? Slade?’ He asked as Merlyn ended the call, ‘You let that monster out?’

‘Let out?’ Merlyn gave a short laugh, ‘Hardly. But Oliver needs more than the island to challenge him, he needs to understand why he lost against Ra’s and why he needs to re-discover that killer instinct in order to defeat him. And killing Slade once and for all will grant him that.’

‘Uh huh.’ Roy didn’t sound convinced. ‘What if he gets hurt? Or Thea?’

‘Cauldron of fire, Roy. They need to be tested before I can begin training them properly, you know that. I might not have been as extreme with you, but you were already close enough to be…’ He paused searching for the right words as Roy watched him carefully. ‘Remade.’

Roy didn’t reply, but nodded understandingly and went back to looking out the window, the cityscape drenched in the thunderous downpour. He was beginning to feel grateful that Merlyn had spared him the long walk in the rain.

 

Things are not going well on the island as Oliver and Thea got ambushed and captured by Slade, ending up locked in his own prison cell as the man walks off, muttering darkly all the time. Oliver glares at his retreating back, knowing they had to get out before Slade found their plane, cunningly hid as it was. But it was the words he spoke to Oliver that had the most impact, and as easy as it would be to brush it off as the ravings of a mad man, Oliver feels the truth in them, feels the sorrow turned to anger in his voice, sees the agony in his one good eye as Slade taunts him with the truth about Shado in front of a curious Thea. But as he turns to leave, Oliver sees a tiny part of the man he used to know, a glimmer of the ASIS operative inside and he calls out to him. But to no avail, the heavy steel door closes with a gentle clang after him.

Getting out was the easy part, well mostly, Thea was still wincing as her arm felt a little sore after being popped in and out of its socket. They continue to traverse the island and Thea continues to pester him with questions and Oliver tries to avoid them, tells her to focus on the task at hand, to keep alert in case of another attack. A pity then that he forgot to tell her about the trap he had set up some years earlier. A daring move and quick thinking saved her life as he tossed her out of the way of the spiky log trap. He gasped in pain as he felt his side flare in agony and looked down to see one of the spikes sticking out from his chest. It was a shallow puncture and he pulled it out quick, clasping his shirt over the wound with one hand as he leaned against a tree.

‘We have to stop. At least for a moment, Ollie.’

‘No. Press on.’ He gasped out, but didn’t resist Thea pushing him down into a sitting posture. ‘Fine, five minutes, no more.’

She brushed his hands away to inspect the cut, but nodded happily as she saw the blood had stopped and was already tacky to the touch. She frowned at him as she knelt, however. ‘Oliver I can tell something’s going on. Why can’t you tell me? And not about Slade or Roy. It’s something more, something bad.’

She keeps pressing him, telling him that this is diverting all attention from the chase, and finally Oliver just can’t carry the weight of the lies anymore. But even then, when he tells her, he feels compelled to alter the truth, to ensure she knows it was not her fault.

‘Malcolm killed Sarah.’ The words come out in a whisper as he grits his teeth in physical and emotional pain. Thea shakes her head, rejecting his words.

‘No, no, no. He was in Corto Maltese with me that entire time.’

Oliver looks up at her, his eyes steady as they lock onto hers and she sees the strain in his face, the hardness in his expression. ‘He didn’t do it directly. He used someone, put them under the influence of a powerful mind altering drug, making them susceptible to suggestion and made her shoot the arrows.’ He stopped again as Thea looked at him in mounting fear and apprehension, her mouth forming the “no” even as Oliver continued on, stone-faced. ‘All so she wouldn’t know what she was doing, she can’t even remember it.’

‘She?’ Thea asked hesitatingly, ‘She who?’

Oliver broke their gaze and let the final words slip from his mouth. ‘You. You killed Sarah, Thea.’

 

Roy stepped out of the car and bent over as Merlyn called his name. He spoke with the man for a moment, before closing the car door carefully and watching it drive off down the street. The rain had stopped for the most part and the city had a nice clean feel about it, even here in the Glades it didn’t look as run down as usual. Roy turned to go into his house but stopped as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick, that primordial sense kicking in. He rotated slowly, looking around carefully, but he couldn’t identify the figure watching him. Roy was sure there was someone there, but despite his training and experience, he backed his way to the door and reached out with his keys. There was a gust of wind that brushed over the dead grass in his yard and Roy flicked his gaze towards it. There! For a second, half that even, he was sure he saw something, a gun metal grey figure in the corner of his sight. Roy looked again, but there was nothing, he was alone. 

 

Thea twists out of Slade’s vice-like grip and Oliver tackles him, rolling down a muddy slope. Punching, kicking, scrappy fighting between them as Thea joins in and attacks him again, going from his legs. They fight almost well enough for a while, before Oliver finds himself in a death hold by Slade. Thea breaks it by hitting him across the back with a branch and then pulls out the gun, pointing it in his face. For a moment she looks as though she’ll pull the trigger in the heat of battle, but she stops, composes herself and instead holds it to him. Oliver springs back up as Slade tries to goad Thea into killing him. 

‘Do it. Let me rest at last with my Shado. Do it!’

‘You’re not a killer, Thea!’ Oliver breaks in.

‘Tell that to Sarah!’

‘What happened to Sarah is not on you, what happens to him is!’

She growls under her breath, the gun waving slightly, even as Slade smirks at her. ‘Go on then. Do it. Kill me. I dare you…’ He laughs quietly at that point and Thea breaks eye contact with him for a moment to glance at Oliver.

‘No! Thea, this is what Merlyn wanted. He let Slade out so we’d capture him and kill him. He wants us to be like him. But we’re not. You’re not.’

Thea felt the struggle within her each side pressing up against each other, the pressure to kill him strong, as the efforts to just drop the weapon as strong. Eventually she gave a yell and fired the gun.

 

Was it a misfire? Poor aim? Or was she merely fulfilling both sides of the struggle, Oliver wondered to himself as he placed Slade back in his cell. His wounds bandaged, the man paced the cell, glancing at them both. ‘A flesh wound? Hah, clearly you are not the killer your brother is, Thea.’

She shoots Oliver a hard look, ‘Yeah, I wish that were true.’ 

Oliver sighs and watches her leave, ignoring Slade’s parting remarks, instead focusing on repairing the damage between him and his sister. He wasn’t sure it was possible this time. Even on the plane back, she didn’t speak to him, and left him alone with his thoughts. That wasn’t what he wanted though, because his thoughts always turned to Roy and he still hadn’t thought of anything to break the stalemate between them. 

 

The apartment looks the same as ever though, and Oliver finds it strange that he’s come to think of it as home. But then, he reflects, home is family, and he needed to keep Thea safe above all else. But he couldn’t just tell her that. ‘Thea? About what happened, what Merlyn made you do. I need you to keep that between us. No one else must know, especially Laurel.’

She looks at him then, weighing his words before nodding slowly. ‘Fine. But what about Merlyn?’

‘We still need him. But when this is over, we’ll deal with him.’

‘Will you indeed?’ His voice called from the shadows near the window and Oliver looked up to see Merlyn move out from the darkness into view, his black cloth immaculate, his bow strung over one shoulder and his sword clasped to his side. 

Thea glares at him, her voice heavy with emotion, anger and pain. ‘How could you do this? To me? To us? And to Sarah…you monster!’

Merlyn’s mouth tightened, ‘He should not have told you that.’

‘Well he did! I just, I can’t believe you’d use your own daughter like that!’ She screamed at him.

Merlyn stood steadfast against her torrent of fury and replied evenly, ‘I had only your best interests at heart, and that meant having me alive, so yes, I tied you to me through a necessary evil, but it was necessary, can’t you see that?’

‘You can’t believe that?’ She gasps out in response, before adopting a grimmer tone. ‘But I don’t care, I’ll train with you, be your student, your partner, hell I’ll even be your soldier, but only to defeat Ra’s, and only because Oliver said we need you. But I will never again be your daughter.’

Merlyn locks gazes for a moment, before turning away from her, moving towards the window back towards the darkness, his tone harsher than before. ‘If that’s how you want it, fine. But you should know, I already have a partner.’

Oliver frowns at him, before watching another shadow detach itself from the wall near the fireplace and walk to Merlyn’s side. He lets his jaw go slack as he recognises the dark blood red of the armour. ‘No.’ He whispers, almost to himself as Roy takes up position beside Merlyn, his bow clutched in one hand, while the other rests easily on the new addition. A blade is strapped to his waist, the scabbard red to match his armour. Oliver feels the urge to grab the nearest object and attack Merlyn with it, but it’s Roy’s face that stops him. The look in his eyes, that cold stare, a brief reflection of the anger Thea has for him, as though he too was betrayed in some fashion. Oliver glanced over to Thea as she looked at the two men, her lips slightly parted in surprise. Merlyn looks at Oliver then, a sick sort of triumph in his eyes, the sort of look that screams ‘I win.’ Oliver couldn’t make eye contact with Roy, not even as the other archer pushed past him, following Merlyn out of the room.

Merlyn pauses by Oliver and drops his voice to a whisper, ‘For a long time I thought Thea was your utmost treasure, your greatest weakness. What sweet victory that he chose me.’

Oliver ground his teeth as he repressed his reply and let Merlyn walk past him, the corners of his mouth twitching into an almost smile. This was it. This moment right here that finally brings everything home to him: seeing Roy Harper “choose” Merlyn over him, he **must** get Roy back.


	22. Chapter 22

The high vaulted halls of the headquarters of the League of Assassins rang with the sharp sounds of steel on steel. Down every corridor, and up through the levels of the fortress the sound travelled, punctuated every now and again with the harsh instructions of the trainers. At the very top of the ancient building Ra’s al Ghul stood looking out one of the many windows that afforded him views over the sprawling barren wastes to the east. Save for those beneath him, there was not a soul to be found for almost a hundred miles. He looked down, examining his hands, now washed clean from the work of questioning, and pushed his silver rings back onto his fingers. The doors to the grand hall were pushed opened aggressively, hitting the walls with a thud before closing slowly. Ra’s looked up, his angry scowl softening as Nyssa strode in to face him in a whirl of fury and black robes. He gazed at her thoughtfully as she glared at him.

‘Oliver Queen is alive!’

‘Hmm.’ Ra’s nodded to himself and turned away from her back towards the window. 

‘You know of this?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you kept it from me?’ Nyssa replied through gritted teeth. ‘Her murderer still evades justice. You would do nothing?’

Ra’s didn’t reply, simply continued to stare out the window. He felt Nyssa stand behind him and with a raised hand dismissed his attendants. The rustle of iron chains on the stone floor indicated the removal of the prisoner too. Nyssa glanced towards the bound woman before returning her furious gaze to her father’s turned back.

‘I demand justice! If nothing else, Oliver Queen challenged you and lived. You know this means he must die, to ensure all know of the dominance of Ra’s al Ghul. The League never leaves a challenge unanswered.’

Ra’s inclined his head. ‘Perhaps.’

 

Oliver watched Merlyn arrive as he sat with Thea at the bar. Roy wasn’t here yet, and Oliver took small comfort in the fact that the Black Archer hadn’t arrived with Arsenal in tow. He didn’t like the fact that he had to let the man train them here. It was like taking a poison into his heart and not knowing what the effects would be other than pain. And it was painful, to have Roy look at him the way he did, to see that smug smile playing on Merlyn’s lips every time they met. And the worst part of it all was the knowledge about why the archer was doing this; playing the mind-games with him. But there was something else, kind of how Merlyn used Thea but also cared for her in that fucked up fatherly way of his. Oliver had seen the way Merlyn looked at Roy, the pride in his eyes, almost as if he really did want Roy to be his partner, not just the side-kick he was with Oliver. But then Oliver remembered that Merlyn wanted to torture him, that’s why he went after Thea, but learning that Roy was his weakest link, the chink in his armour, made it all the more delicious for him when Roy freely chose to train with him. At least, that’s what Oliver told himself, all those sleepless nights recently when his thoughts were consumed by thoughts of Roy and what he had done to fuck things up with the one person who…

‘You ready, Oliver?’

‘Huh?’ Oliver looked up at the deep voice, before breaking out into a smile. ‘Oh Roy, there you are. Yeah, of course come on down.’

Roy nodded wordlessly and gestured for Oliver to go down first. This wasn’t their first lesson with Merlyn, but it was the first time all four of them would be in the same room since Oliver and Thea had returned from the island. Roy had let them train with Merlyn alone, as they got the basics down, but the Black Archer seemed to think that they were ready to all train together, even if Roy’s skills with a sword were better than either Oliver’s or Thea’s. That surprised him, when Merlyn said it. He thought the months she spent with her father would have honed her skills, but maybe Thea didn’t have the natural aptitude for fighting like Merlyn or Oliver.

Oliver watches as Merlyn demonstrates the moves he wants them to do with Roy first, slowly, barely tapping their blades on contact, before moving to a faster pace and then to attack speed. He chewed the inside of his cheeks as he watched Roy twirl and dance around Merlyn’s attacks, his tightly armoured body moving easily. After a few minutes of sparring, Roy put up his sword and they bowed slightly to each other. Roy moved past Oliver without looking at him, reaching over to grab his towel and mop the sweat from his face. Oliver lingered for a moment as if to talk to him, but Roy pointedly ignored him, and the older man gave up and moved onto the practice area with Thea and Merlyn.

‘Ready?’ Merlyn called to them.

‘You’re not joining us, Roy?’ Oliver calls out as the younger man leans against the bench behind him to watch their first attempt. 

‘No. It’s better to observe your target first, before making an attack.’

‘Uh, ok.’ Oliver frowns at him as he picks up the offered practice sword, noting the dull but heavy blades. He waits for Merlyn to return to the center of the room and nods at Thea. They begin their fight slowly, edging around him, looking for an opening. Merlyn watches them carefully, his entire concentration on the battle, even as Oliver feels his mind wonder towards Roy. Arsenal was in full armour, his hood pulled back as he balanced another sword on his fingers, the shiny steel of the blade marking it as a real weapon. 

Merlyn’s lightning quick jab at his abs forces his attention back on the fight.

‘Concentrate Oliver! You’d be dead by now if this were Ra’s.’ Merlyn called out smugly as he ducked a swing from Thea and responded with a devastating strike of his own that pulled the sword from her grasp, forcing it to clatter to the ground as she gasped at him in surprise. The two of them stood there, now ‘dead’ and Roy snorted to himself.

‘Pathetic.’

‘You think you can do better?’ Oliver barked at him and the young man grinned coldly at him.

‘Of course. You might be an expert with the bow, but you’ve got a lot to learn about fighting with a sword.’ He tossed Merlyn the blade in his hand, pulling out the one at his side, the soft hiss of metal on leather as it eased out of its scabbard and the two of them circled for a moment before engaging fiercely. Oliver winced reactively as Merlyn slashed at Roy, but the red archer rolled out of the way and jumped up, slapping Merlyn’s back with the flat of his blade. Thea hid a smile behind her hand as the older man gasped in pain, falling to his knees.

‘Mortal strike.’ Roy called out, before kicking the blade from Merlyn’s hands and holding his own sword to his neck. ‘You’re dead. And to make sure, hit the heart or the throat.’ He added, looking up to Oliver and Thea. Merlyn took the opportunity to dive back for his blade, kicking out with his feet to send Roy sprawling and soon had his own sword at Roy’s throat.

‘But hesitate and you’re dead.’ Merlyn finished. Oliver nodded reluctantly and watched as Roy was helped up. ‘You might want to work on that part, Oliver.’

‘Yeah.’ He replied bitterly as they again took up positions with Merlyn in the center, their practice blades held tightly. He could feel Roy’s eyes watching him as he fought to concentrate on Merlyn’s sudden feints and attacks. It was over relatively quickly however as Thea attacked when Oliver was still recovering from a parry. Merlyn unbalanced her and pulled her blade away, his speed with the weapon surprising Oliver as he found himself and Thea at Merlyn’s mercy again.

‘You need to learn to work together better, because right now your numbers are my advantage.’ He released his grip on her weapon and returned it to her. 'Roy. Again!' 

Oliver could already feel the sweat sticking his t-shirt to his back, but Merlyn and Thea still looked as cool as ever in their kimonos. He really needed to get something looser…but Roy was wearing his armour, all that tight leather didn’t seem to bother him as he swung and thrust around Merlyn’s attacks, dodging and ducking as he parried and countered, Oliver was beginning to wonder if he should even bother using a bow when he was this good with a sword. Although, Merlyn used both and… Of course, the Black Archer was doing more than just helping Roy become a better fighter for defeating Ra’s, he was training his successor! 

That realisation hurt Oliver more than he expected. He could feel himself losing his grip on Roy as _his_ even more and instead watching him become Merlyn’s. But Oliver couldn’t deny that a small part of him wanted this. Maybe if they weren’t constantly fighting together, then they could finally be together. Immediately after that thought though, he felt guilty, he couldn’t abandon Roy to the same fate as Merlyn, or Slade or the other heroes who became villains through losing their way on the path. He had promised Roy, all those months ago before kissed him for the first time, that he’d never let him go, never let him get sucked into the black maelstrom. He wasn’t about to give up on him now.

 

They finished their fight, Roy scowling in annoyance as he was bested, but Merlyn smiled at him, a sure sign that he was happy with the skills he had demonstrated. As Roy got up from the floor, he could feel Oliver’s eyes on him and glanced over in time to see the archer abruptly look away. Roy smirked a little at that, it was almost as if they were back in high school checking each other out in the middle of a lesson.

There was the sound of steps from above and Roy looked up to see Diggle and Laurel walking down. They nodded at Thea and Roy, Laurel’s eyes turning hard when she saw Merlyn resting at the other end of the room. Diggle moved towards Oliver.

‘Hey, Oliver. I’ve finished securing the Foundry. Wired all the ARGUS tech into the doors and windows, Felicity is double checking the motion sensors and integrating the feeds. Also got some of those heavy duty barricades from Lyla’s team in Operations. They’re at the front and back exits.’ 

‘Thanks Dig.’ Oliver pats him on the back as Diggle turns towards Roy, and gestures to him.

‘Uh, Roy, a word?’ Roy shrugged and followed the man away from the others.

‘What is it?’

‘Lyla asked me to give you this.’ Diggle passed him a memory drive, ‘Also to say she’s sorry for taking so long, the data was harder to get than she thought.’

‘Great. Thanks John.’ Roy nodded at him, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips as he felt the lightness of the flash drive. To think, all the answers he required, everything he wanted to know about Kyle was on this device; his training, operations, code names, present whereabouts, maybe even why Oliver knew he was alive. Finally Roy could sort out what was real and what was just a smoke screen, because as much as he had grown to respect and like Merlyn, he still didn’t trust him completely. Maybe it was healthy to hold that level of distrust, but still, if Oliver had kept this from him…

He walked back towards Merlyn as Thea brushed past him and Laurel without speaking, overhearing the last of Oliver’s words.

‘…We’re not leaving the loft.’

‘My enemies have only succeeded in not capturing me because they have no idea where I’m hiding. Oliver you must-‘

‘No. We’re staying.’

Merlyn grumbled at his refusal and turned away to hand the training swords to Roy. ‘You and Thea have the same stubbornness. You must get that from your mother.’ Oliver bit back his reply and looked over at Roy, wondering what he had received from Diggle.

Roy saw the curiosity in his eyes but ignored the unasked question, instead sheathing the blades and wiping the grips down before laying three of them out on the work bench. He sheathed his own sword, called out his goodbyes to Oliver and Diggle and followed Merlyn upstairs.

 

Oliver watched him go, resisting that urge to call out his name, to tell him to stop, to please, just talk a little. Roy was never the most vocal of people but there was a comfort to the silence they had together, and Oliver always listened whenever Roy did speak, it was usually for a purpose, and Oliver respected that. Liked the way that even though he must be burning with questions, the younger man never asked him about the island, or his parents or anything that didn’t have to do with the job. Oliver suspected it was as much to do with respect as it was about not having to answer questions about his own past.

Diggle walked towards the gun locker and Oliver hummed for a moment before speaking. ‘Uh…Hey Dig, um, what was that you gave Roy?’

Diggle hesitates before replying, ‘Sorry Oliver, he asked me not to say. It’s a private matter.’

‘Private?’

‘I don’t even know, to be honest, just that it was something he asked Lyla to look up for him in the ARGUS database.’

‘Oh.’ Oliver frowned, an unwelcome thought creeping into his mind, ‘Must be serious then?’

Diggle shook his head again, ‘Oliver, come on, I’ve already said more than I should have. Besides, to change the topic, when was the last time you got some rest?’

Oliver blinked and rubbed his tired eyes, before reaching for the practice swords on the nearby workbench. ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead.’

‘Hopefully not.’ Diggle frowned at him, but Oliver ignored his concerned gaze and began to practice the technique Merlyn had thought them earlier.

 

Roy waved goodbye to Merlyn and watched the sleek black sports-car pull away from his house and glide down the street, so out of place in the rundown neighbourhood. He entered his house and flicked the lights on, making a line for his tablet, powering it up immediately. Roy wasn’t quite sure why but his hands were shaking as he fumbled with the flash drive. He glanced towards the side board and wetted his lips as he looked at the half empty bottle. But then he looked away as the load screen beeped. He pushed the drive into the port and hummed a little to himself as the software began to read the data.

He stared at the screen, everything had been divided into folders and subfolders. But there was more information than Roy thought he’d get. He clicked the folder marked ‘Initial Recruitment,’ and browsed around for a while. But it was mostly boring stuff about Westen’s SATs and college records. Looked like he had been fast-tracked through the service, it was kinda hard to tell since a lot of it was redacted. Roy stared at one page which had been completely blacked out with the exception of the word ‘lozenge.’ What the hell? He shrugged and moved on, shifting through the files on Westen’s background, his last five major ops, promotions, a bunch of pictures of him at different ages and locations, including one as recent as…two weeks ago? So he really was alive! Roy sat up from where he had been lying back against his bed. It was definitely Kyle, but the man looked exhausted, his eyes closed, dark rings underneath and his normally tanned face drawn and pale. It was a head shot, just the tips of his bare shoulders visible. Roy searches for the rest of the set and soon finds them; a set of five from the same time stamp. Then Roy looks at one closer, frowning at the strange shiny metal covering Kyle’s exposed arms. He quickly searches through the video files until he gets to the last one, dated the same as the photo. He taps on it to open and watches the fixed camera perspective. 

At first there’s nothing, just an empty concrete room, harsh white light and a heavy metal door set into the wall. Then the door opens and his heart races faster as he sees Kyle come in, the same stoic expression on his face as ever. He walks to the middle of the room and stands in front of the camera. He was dressed in a loose grey t-shirt and pants, the kind of clothes you see in a hospital or lab. Roy frowned for a moment, before boosting the volume as Kyle began to speak.

‘Neutronium Gravity Test Three: Full body coverage.’ He turned his back to the camera and pulled off the t-shirt and pants. Roy felt himself flush a little and harden as Kyle turned back to face the camera, his muscular build still as strong and powerful as he remembered it. But there were differences, Roy frowned at the sight of two metal ports just below his rib cage, on either side of his abs. Roy reached down and absently stroked his cock through his sweat pants as he watched the high definition images of the man he once knew so intimately.

‘Ok, here we go.’ Kyle muttered and closed his eyes. Roy watched open mouthed as he slowly rose up from the floor, floating evenly in the air, before he clenched his fists suddenly. Without warning great geysers of a gun-metal grey burst outwards from his hands and seemed to hang in the air. It looked like liquid, almost like paint, and then Kyle opened his eyes, Roy seeing for the first time the change in them, the rotating irises of silver against black. The camera zoomed in on his eyes and focused for a moment before he directed his gaze towards the lens. Roy shuddered at first, but then there was something calming about the rotating colors, almost mesmerising. The camera refocused on his body as the liquid snapped back from its motionless state and crashed against Kyle’s naked torso, encasing him in a greyish silver shell. After a few seconds the liquid-like substance began to form distinctive shapes as it moulded itself to his body. Then Roy watched in fascination as additional structures began to emerge from the liquid armour, like ships coming out of a fog bank, straight plates of metal overlapped on his stomach and pectoral muscles, two pauldrons covering his shoulders, his feet encased in shimmering silver greaves. But there were cracks forming in the liquidly shapes.

‘Argh! Integrity failing! Have to abort!’ Kyle yelled out and as quick as it had appeared the armour vanished and the liquid soaked back into his skin. He fell to the floor, brow covered in sweat as he gasped for air. ‘Shit, I almost had it that time!’

The video ended there and Roy sat back in surprise. What the hell happened to him? Why did he look like that? Had there been some terrible accident… That particular train of thought led him to remember that Barry had been changed by the particle accelerator explosion in Central City. Had Kyle even been in Starling at the time? He quickly searched the active duty files and found the heavily redacted file dealing with the ‘Central City Incident’ from the right time. It was big, and had several related files. Roy scratched his head and settled in for a long night of reading.

 

Roy rubbed his tired eyes and reached up to turn off the light, the room darkened, the tablet’s light spilling over his body. Roy pulled off his t-shirt and struggled off his pants, he felt his cock stir again as he glanced back at the image he paused at. That moment earlier when Kyle had stripped off his shirt and stood there, his body still as attractive as ever. Roy doesn’t really think about it, but reaches down and starts to jerk off through his briefs. He pulls the tight fabric down and lets his drooling cock go free. His eyes roamed over Kyle’s body and soon Roy was jerking off hard and then he could feel it, bubbling up inside him. He was close, continuing now at a furious pace until he pushes himself over the edge. But even as he shoots his cum onto his abs, it’s Oliver’s name he’s whispering, imagining Oliver’s rough hands on his body, almost feeling Oliver’s hardness buried deep inside of him, and Roy cums hard, arching his back and rolling his head upwards, as the archer’s name leaves his lips. He’s not even sure why but he feels the wet trickle from the corner of his eyes as he recovers and glances down to look at Kyle’s muscular body, frozen in time, his startling eyes seemingly watching him as Roy finally slumps back down, a sheen of sweat covering his own toned torso. He closed his eyes, whispering a silent apology and rolled over.


	23. Chapter 23

Roy stepped off his bike and reached up to ruffle his hair as he looked at the dimmed lights of the club. When he had left last night he hadn’t noticed the extent of the fortifications Diggle had installed. He walked up to where the front door used to be, replaced by a large grid of metal and reinforced glass, the fortified blast door just visible behind it. He paused and searched for a handle or a keypad or even a doorbell. There was a soft whirring overhead and he looked up to see a CCTV camera focused in on him. Roy offered a smile and half raised his hand in a wave. Nothing happened for a moment and then there was a clunk and a loud rumbling. The heavy steel door opened slowly as the hydraulics pushed its thickness outwards. Roy raised a brow in surprise as he saw just how massive the front door really was. He slipped inside as soon as there was room enough and couldn’t help but stretch his arms out wide, measuring the door. 

‘Fuck, what is this, a nuclear silo?’ He muttered as walked further into the club, the front door closing with a thud and hiss behind him. Roy glanced up to see that the skylights had been covered over with the same material as the door and that there was little to no light coming in. Walking across the empty dancefloor he spotted Thea sitting at the bar, the drink in front of her untouched as she fidgeted with a beermat. She looked distracted and Roy wandered over to her.

‘Hey Thea.’

‘Oh, Roy, hi.’

‘So ah, I’ve noticed the new security features.’

‘Yeah,’ Thea looked up at him, ‘Guess we’re siege-proof.’

‘So we’re not opening tonight?’ Roy smiled gently but Thea remained glum. ‘What did you tell the staff?’

‘Renovations.’

‘Oh.’ There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, but Roy sat down next to Thea anyway as she continued to shred the beermat in front of her. ‘So, uh, are you ok?’

‘I’m fine.’ She responded quickly, before catching his eye, ‘Well, it’s just…how do you team up with my fa…with Merlyn?’

Roy looked away for a moment, ‘You know it’s a strange thing, but he came to me. During the whole Brick thing, when we all thought Oliver was…And Merlyn, well, he’s good at what he does.’

‘Which is fucking people over! He tricked me and used me and didn’t give a damn! He manipulated Oliver to his almost death. How can you be his friend?’

‘We’re not friends, he says we're partners, but it’s more like master-student, he’s teaching me everything he knows, he doesn’t hold back, and he sure as hell hasn’t lied to me yet. More than I can say for someone we both know.’ Roy added bitterly. ‘Look, I know Merlyn is connected with Oliver’s fight against Ra’s, and he wouldn’t exactly win father of the year, but-‘

‘Wait,’ Thea interrupted him, ‘Has Oliver been lying to you too?’

‘Oh yeah, I like Oliver, a lot, but he’s been lying for so long now it’s become natural.’ Roy looked away from her again, his face becoming hard, ‘And keeping secrets from everyone, especially those kind of secrets…it fucks everything up.’

Thea frowned at him for a moment, but there was an edge to Roy’s voice that she didn’t recognise and backed away from asking him what he was talking about. Instead she sighed to herself and picked up the now moulded beermat, pressing at the corners to fold it in on itself. She could feel Roy’s eyes on her as he reached across to still her restless hands.

‘What’s going on Thea?’

‘Ollie told me I can’t talk about it with anyone.’ She whispered, barely audible.

‘Uh,’ Roy frowned, ‘No, that’s not fair. You gotta be able to talk to someone about it, and not your brother.’ Thea looked reluctant to continue so Roy added, ‘Plus I’ve pretty much seen and done everything a hero’s not meant to do, so please, trust me.’

‘I…I killed Sarah.’ She said it all in one go and Roy’s stomach clenched, oh hell, he hoped she would’ve remembered he was there when they had come back from the island. ‘But it wasn’t me, it was Merlyn, he was controlling-‘

‘I know.’ Roy broke in, ‘All the team kinda does. I knew before you left…’ 

‘And none of you told me?’ Thea responded through clenched teeth. Roy shifted uncomfortably.

‘Well, yeah. I mean Oliver…’

‘Right, of course.’ Thea responded, her voice going high as she laughed at him. ‘Typical Oliver!’

‘Yeah, I guess he wanted to protect you.’ Roy bit his lip as she tossed her head in derision. ‘Look Thea, I understand, probably more than anyone else can. The mirakuru, the drug that made me go crazy last year, that made me do things I never would’ve.’ He faltered, eyes glazing over as he tried to recall the blurry memories from those months. ‘And for the most part I’ve forgotten what I did, but sometimes I get little flashes; memories and dreams and screaming and blood. And I know that in those moments I’m reliving something terrible. But it gets easier, and you learn to live with it.’

‘Roy, I…’

‘It’s ok. I forgave myself for what I did, because it wasn’t me. Just like what you did wasn’t your fault.’

‘It was Merlyn’s.’ She glanced at him and shook her head, ‘I still don’t get it. How can you work with him?’

‘I don’t agree with how he did it, but I understand why. Merlyn might not be the most ideal trainer for you and Oliver, but I trust him. Like I said, he hasn’t lied to me yet.’ Roy reached over and took a sip of her untouched drink. ‘Mhh, I gotta talk to Oliver, need the courage.’ He added with a smile and swung off the stool.

Thea watched him go and felt a strange sensation as she recalled saying words similar to that to Oliver not so long ago. She looked at the swirling contents of the glass and made up her mind: she had to tell Laurel the truth, she wasn’t like Oliver, this lie was impossible to keep hidden.

 

Oliver concentrates on practicing the forms as Merlyn had thought them and tried to envision the sword as an extension of his arm just as his bow had become. But it was tiring, and even as he repeated the movements for the twentieth time he felt the strain of holding the weapon in his hand. He swung and cut the air as he advanced down the practice area. That seemed to suit him best, he could move a little when he had to, but he was much more effective when he could stand in place. Oliver resented that though, hated the fact that this was something he didn’t just **get**. There was no way he could dance and twirl around his attacker’s sword like Roy could, or even have that strange deadly grace that Merlyn possessed as he moved around his opponent, the folds of his robe twisting outwards in a mesmerising display. No, Oliver was merely adequate with the weapon and that galled him and pushed him onwards to practice harder and harder, to the point of not noticing that Roy was watching him. Of course when the younger man began to speak, Oliver stopped suddenly, wincing as the blade moved downwards and slapped his thigh, his balance thrown off.

‘You’re holding it wrong.’

‘What?’ Oliver leans on the sword and looks at him.

‘I said you’re holding the sword wrong as you go into the up-swing. You need to change your grip or a skilled opponent will twist it out of your hand. Here let me show you.’ Roy steps closer to him and pulls up Oliver’s hand, manipulating his fingers until he’s satisfied. Oliver lets him do it, since they haven’t been this close in ages and he misses the way Roy looks at him, the way he used to stand so close, the heat that comes from him as he presses against Oliver. ‘Now try it.’ Roy stands back to let Oliver practice. He nods, ‘Good.’

‘So you come here to criticise me, Roy?’ Oliver pants out as he continues the routine, not noticing the expression on Roy’s face. The younger man looks conflicted but he seems to muster his strength and closes his eyes briefly, before opening them.

‘No. We need to talk.’ His tone was flat, dull, but his eyes caught Oliver’s attention and he stopped swinging the sword. ‘Kyle Westen.’

‘Um…?’

‘The ARGUS agent, the one I was sleeping with? Yeah you remember him now, supposed to have died from a terrorist attack on his home. Yeah, not so much.’

Oliver looked at him, swallowing the bile rising in his mouth as his heart began to pound a little faster. Of course he remembered the man, couldn’t get over Roy being with him, couldn’t wait to get rid of him, broke his one rule and for months thought he had killed a top level ARGUS agent. Sure, he knew now that Westen had survived, but he never had the guts to tell Roy, selfishly wanting him to stay in that vulnerable emotional state. And maybe Oliver had convinced himself that it was better for Roy in some way, but that was just lying to himself as much as it was to Roy. Oliver liked that the younger man was free of distraction, liked the fact that he relied on Oliver, liked that Roy was easy to manipulate. And that last part was what scared Oliver, he didn’t want to admit to it, but he had been manipulating and lying to everyone around him for years; his mother, his sister, Roy. It wasn’t easy to realise that he was as talented as Merlyn when it came to twisting the truth to get what he wanted. But Roy was staring at him now, his face outwardly calm, but Oliver noticed a slight tremor in his hand, a good indication that he was upset. Oliver wetted his lips and replied, ‘Um, yes I remember him. Didn’t he… Wait, so he’s not dead?’

‘Seriously, Oliver? You gonna keep lying to me?’

‘I…what?’

‘You know when Merlyn first told me-‘

‘Merlyn told you this?’ Oliver broke in with a grin, ‘You can’t trust anything he says Roy.’

‘Like I’m meant to trust you? I found out from him that Kyle was alive. But it took all night to go through his files, the ARGUS ones that Lyla gave me, to really find out what happened. It was all a lie. A stupid cover story so he could get out without bringing me along. He took what you did, what you tried to do and he left. A clean cut, that son of a…’

‘Ok this is good so far,’ Oliver thought to himself, ‘Keep being angry at him, Roy.’

‘And I understand why.’ Roy continued, his eyes softening as he looks through Oliver. ‘At first they thought he was sick, brought him to doctors the world over, he was, is, a favourite of one of the leaders apparently. But then it got worse and weird. Just like your buddy the Flash, he got dosed in the particle accelerator explosion, only he didn’t get super speed or super strength.’ Roy gave him a twisted smile.

‘Go on.’ Now Oliver was interested. ‘He’s a metahuman?’

‘Gravity. Metals, something like that, I saw him grow steel plates from a strange silver liquid, lift ten trucks without breaking a sweat and without even touching them. And yeah, that’s pretty fucked up and the way they took him from me sucked, but they would never have had to do it if it weren’t for you. If you hadn’t forced them!’ Roy’s eyes were afire now.

‘Oh shit.’ Oliver thought, his heart beating fast now, aloud he stuttered. ‘Uhh.’

‘Because I saw what you did Oliver. I saw you shoot him. Cold blooded and you meant to kill him, didn’t you? You wanted him dead. And not even a mercy shot to the heart, you filled his room with poison and left him to fucking choke! You wanted him to suffer.’ His voice went quiet.

‘Roy, please…’

‘Didn’t you?!’ Roy roared at him, his fury finally unleashed, as he grabbed a nearby sparing blade and lashed out with a furious blow. Oliver jumped back as the dulled blade missed him by inches. He brought up his own sword to counter Roy’s next swing as the backhand smashed through an empty glass case. Oliver felt the vibrations along the sword ring all the way up his arm as Roy attacked him again and again, relentless in his rage. For the first time since he had fought Ra’s al Ghul, Oliver felt genuine fear creep into his stomach. He dived out of the way of Roy’s next downswing, too concerned with avoiding getting hit to try and talk him down. But he could see the rage and the hurt and the betrayal in Roy’s eyes and he didn’t think he could have said anything that would have helped anyway. Oliver gasped as Roy caught him off guard and booted him in the stomach, sending him sprawling onto his back. Before he could react, Roy had his sword pressing against his heart, the tip pressing hard enough to just pierce the skin.

‘You’re dead.’ Roy whispered, eyes heavy with unshed tears, whether for Westen or Oliver he wasn’t sure. Oliver didn’t reply, just breathed in and out and tried to reach out to Roy. But the younger man let his blade fall to the floor and walked out. Oliver climbed back to his feet and saw that Merlyn had been watching from the top of the stairs. He was about to say something when the man raised a brow in judgement and stalked off, following Roy.

 

‘Well maybe it was over now. I mean most guys fight over a girl and then they actually fight and then they’re back to being friends, that could happen, right?’ Oliver muttered to himself as he rubbed his bruised abs. He had read somewhere that guys fight to keep themselves close, he wasn’t so sure that was working out with Roy. There was a sharp clicking on the metal staircase above him and Oliver glanced up to see Laurel walking towards him like the fucking grim reaper and he groans to himself; Thea told her, she must have, he knew that look. Oliver swore under his breath as he straightens up to greet her. She glanced around at the broken glass.

‘Hey Laurel.’

‘Oliver. What happened-’ She stopped, her voice strangled as he watched her carefully. ‘I…I wanted to…God damn why does it have to be so hard?’ Her voice cracked and she raised a trembling hand to wipe away the tears that had gathered there. Oliver made to approach her but she waved him off with her other hand.

‘I’m sorry, Laurel. Some days…well some days it’s just hard.’

‘I know, I just…I miss her and knowing her killer is walking around out there, breathing free air. And we’re no closer to finding them, whoever it is.’ 

Oliver nodded and looked her in the eye, lying with practiced ease. ‘We’ll find them Laurel.’

‘And you’ll kill them? You’ll get justice for Sarah?’

‘Of course.’ Oliver turned away from her, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, she must not know about Thea yet. Laurel glanced up as his turned back, her expression sliding from grief to absolute devastation as she realises that Sarah will never be avenged if she leaves it up to Oliver. And sure Laurel understands that Oliver will always save Thea no matter what she’s done or what anyone else needs. But Merlyn? How can he defend that monster? 

‘Oliver?’

He turned back to her, noting the sudden change in her voice, her bearing, everything. ‘Yeah?’

‘Does it ever bother you? Lying to the people closest to you? You did that without even blinking. I mean come on, Oliver, I know. Thea told me.’

‘Damn.’ Oliver grumbled as he frowned at her. This was like Roy all over again, but she didn’t have the same anger, the same easy rage. Easy to take and then forgive, she just looked at him in a mix of contempt and sorrow. He knew he was supposed to say something else, something to convince her that he would eventually, somehow give Sarah the justice she deserved. ‘Uh, Thea-‘

‘Wasn’t responsible. I know, it was Malcolm Merlyn who set it all up. Set it up so you would give your life for Thea’s. And I understand, but Oliver, it’s Merlyn, he’s the enemy: he’s tried to kill you, he’s tried to destroy the city!’

‘Laurel,’ Oliver broke in, ‘I need Merlyn, he’s our only chance at defeating Ra’s al Ghul. At least let him be until then. After Ra’s is gone then we’ll get justice.’

‘Yeah, sure Oliver.’

‘You don’t believe me?’

‘No. I don’t.’ Laurel took a breath, pausing as though she wanted to continue but she stopped herself. ‘No.’ Oliver watched as she left, stalking out the door in a careful, controlled walk, cold as ice but completely in control, not exactly angry with him, but almost despising him. He sighed again as soon as she was out of sight and leaned up against the shattered case, the glass crunching underfoot. Two gone in the space of an hour and who knows if they’ll ever come back?

 

Merlyn found Roy waiting for him at the north exit of the Foundry and nodded at him as he past, letting the younger man fall into step with him. He didn’t ask about the fight with Oliver, having overheard enough to satisfy himself that there was a deep divide between the two of them. It wasn’t as if Merlyn wanted to keep Roy from Oliver, but rather open his eyes to the fact that Oliver couldn’t be trusted, whereas he, Merlyn, could be. It was an old trick, but Merlyn could see such potential for power in Roy, it merely needed direction. His ambitions had been restrained by the price the League placed on his head, but Merlyn had bigger dreams than simply taking care of his remaining family and hanging around Starling City. And now Roy was part of those plans, more than a part, an instrumental piece. He could feel Roy glancing over at him. 

‘So, you want a ride home? Or did you take the bike?’

‘Uh, yeah, but I don’t feel much like driving. I…’ He trailed off and stopped walking, looking around him. Merlyn watched him, brows raised in question. ‘Sorry, but I swear I can feel someone watching us. Watching me.’

‘Hmm.’ Merlyn glanced around, a brief prickle on his skin. ‘I’m not sure, maybe.’ He added slowly before honing in on the darkness in front of them. ‘There.’ Then Merlyn visibly relaxed. ‘It’s not the League.’

‘Didn’t think it was.’ Roy responded, still looking around him. The feeling had been bugging him all day, someone just out of reach had their eyes on him. He thought he had seen a figure half a dozen times; a shimmering grey shape. But he always dismissed it blaming the fact that he had been binge watching the footage taken of Kyle doing his metahuman thing. Roy sighed and rubbed his short hair, before turning his attention to where Merlyn had indicated. He didn’t see anything and started walking towards the car again.

Merlyn stopped in a clearing between two rusting crates. He senses the presence before he hears it. Then he smiles to himself as he turns to face their stalker.

‘You’re clearly not League of Assassins, they wouldn’t be this sloppy.’ Roy stood beside him and frowned as Laurel came to stand before them, black leathers of the Canary stretched over her frame, weapon held loosely in one hand. She glanced at him before returning to glare at Merlyn.

‘You can leave, it’s him I want.’

‘That’d be a mistake.’ Roy replied as he pulled his hands from his pockets. ‘And I won’t let you have him.’

Merlyn inclined his head in gratitude and studied the black clad woman in front of them. ‘Oh that wouldn’t be necessary, Roy. I can handle her.’ He smirked as she gave a howl of rage and ran at them. In perfect symmetry Roy and Merlyn stepped to one side and Laurel went through the middle, her club flailing in an over-swing. Roy stepped off to the side as Laurel continued her attack and Merlyn kept side-stepping. The man didn’t even unclasp his hands from his back, while Roy kept a silent count of the times Laurel would be dead if Merlyn had been armed and fighting. 

Merlyn continued to dodge and duck the woman’s increasingly wild attacks, a smirk playing about his lips. But after a few minutes of this he tired of the distraction and trips Laurel over, using her weight and energy against her, exploiting the fury and the grief that powered her swings by keeping a cool head. Roy watched them with interest, confident that Merlyn wasn’t going to injure her. Too much.

Merlyn grabs the stick from Laurel and twists her arms tight enough to make her cry in pain. He releases her and holds the weapon aloft, pushing her stumbling onto her knees. ‘So did you really think you could kill me with a stick?’

‘No!’ Laurel grunts in pain and hauls out a gun, staggering up. Roy snaps to attention and makes to move in, but a quick hand gesture from Merlyn makes him stay there. Merlyn looks at Laurel and gives a half smile.

‘So then, we’ll see if being a killer runs in the family.’

Just then as Laurel was contemplating really doing it, a mass of black cloaks drop from the sky. The gun is kicked from her hand and a thick bladed sword is held to her throat, Roy senses someone behind him, just as they make to attack him and he swings round with a vicious kick, slamming the assailant into a wall of metal crates. He turns back to take on another of the assassins but he halts as Nyssa has Merlyn at arrowpoint and he lets his hands fall into a loose fighting position. Roy looks at Merlyn for instructions but none are forthcoming, it’s the first time he’s really seen fear in his master’s eyes. It un-nerves him. So Roy lets the next guy grab his hands and feels the silvery grate of the sword at his neck, the man pressing hard against him, the sword’s touch not quite breaking his skin. But Roy knew that struggling wasn’t going to work so he just stood there as Nyssa turned to address Laurel. 

‘We’re here for him. It is none of your concern, but thank Thea for us.’ She declared as she lowered her bow. Merlyn was silent, for a moment, before he lunged forward and grabbed Nyssa’s dagger pulling it out of its sheath as she moved fluidly from bow to truncheon. Roy and Laurel watched as the two of them fought, clashing hard and trading blows until Merlyn lay on the cold concrete unconscious. Nyssa nodded at two of her henchmen and they dragged him off. Before Roy could resist they were pushing him along too.

‘Hey!’ Laurel cried out, ‘He had nothing to do with killing Sarah!’

Nyssa stopped and turned to her, ‘It is admirable that you wish to avenge your sister. But be at peace, justice will be served, to Malcolm Merlyn and those that defend him.’   
Laurel stared after them, feeling horribly responsible for Roy. She nibbled on her lip for a moment, before running back towards the Foundry.

 

Onslaught dropped onto the ground from his high perch, liquid splashing around him, absorbing the impact. He let it soak back into his shimmering gunmetal grey form. They had been here not too long ago, he had watched the entire thing, wanting to rushing to Roy’s rescue, but holding back when he saw that Nyssa was with the assassins. So he stayed still, eyes darting around as he took in numbers and strength, his eyes lingering on Roy. He had been following the man for some time now, always keeping out of sight, trying to learn as much as possible before approaching. Onslaught had consumed his original personality, he wasn’t quite sure why, it wasn’t as if there was someone else in here, it just seemed that the man he used to be, a hotshot ARGUS agent, on track to be the youngest unit chief in the history of the agency, that man was a long time ago, almost out of memory. This new sensation in his mind was strange, lonely. But it did come with benefits, at least now he was in total control of his powers. Oh ARGUS had tried to constrain him, but they soon learned that he didn’t work for them anymore. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth before he looked around the clearing. 

Onslaught let himself rise slowly, angling his hands down and out as he glided along the path taken by the League assassins towards the docks. His memories of the city told him there was a helipad nearby, probably where they were taking the prisoners. He skimmed over the ground and quickly caught up with them, letting himself drift higher. He felt as though he should say something dramatic but stopped himself and instead just raised a hand; his powers flowing outwards.

Roy wracked his brain as he tried to figure out a way to free himself and Merlyn. Then he felt a strange sensation engulf his body and looked about in surprise. He wasn’t alone as the other assassins were spooked, lowering their weapons. Roy saw this as his chance but as he went to move his arms he found them as heavy as lead. There was a startled yell and he forced himself to look around. There he was. Just like the videos from the testing site, Roy saw the shimmering greyish silver of the figure in front of him resolve into plates of armour. ‘Onslaught,’ he whispered the words as he felt himself being pulled towards the metahuman.

The thugs around him made as it to launch themselves at Onslaught, but found themselves floating in place, their arms waving uselessly. Onslaught extended his other hand, fingers splayed outwards and a great gout of grey liquid shot out from his torso engulfing them. Roy stared as they were thrust backwards against nearby walls, collapsing into groaning heaps. He found himself standing in front of Onslaught and looked up at him as he hovered casually in the air. The roughhewn helm glanced over his head and back towards Nyssa. 

‘We must go.’ The voice was strange, deep and without accent. ‘Now.’ Roy found himself pulled up close to metallic skin and soon they were skimming rapidly just above the surface. He was about to voice his protest at leaving Merlyn behind but he was quickly too unsettled to even think about someone else. 

 

Onslaught increased his speed and soared higher as he left the docklands behind, heading for the tall buildings of the city center. Roy grabbed hold of his waist, the strange shiny liquid moving underneath his hands like jello. He recoiled and would have fallen to his death had Onslaught not grabbed him in his armour covered hands. ‘Relax. I know it feels weird.’ The metahuman whispered to him as he finally reached their destination, the tallest building in Starling City. Roy stepped away from him as soon as their feet touched solid ground.

‘Fuck! What…I…what are you?’ Roy blinked and then tried to correct himself, ‘I mean, Kyle, that’s still you, right?’

‘In a sense.’ Onslaught concentrated for a moment and let the hard sections of the metal revert to their liquid state before absorbing it back into his skin. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, now it was free of the metal. Roy nervously licked his lips as he watched the liquid metal fade into Onslaught’s body, he had seen it a few times in the videos from the files, but it still fascinated him. And then suddenly it was him on a rooftop with the man he thought was dead. 

Kyle stood there, studying him carefully, clad in a loose white t-shirt and combat pants, the black boots scuffed and muddy. Roy did the same, noting the tiredness in his face, the way his hands curled into fists before relaxing, he glanced back to his face, seeing for the first time the biggest difference; his eyes. Roy felt the breath catch in his throat, they were just as they were in the videos, the irises a whirling circle of silver around a core of total blackness, a startling contrast that reminded him of the stars he sometimes saw when there was a power outage in the Glades. Roy stepped closer to him, gaze still firmly locked on those mesmerising orbs. 

Onslaught struggled with a conflict inside him as Roy crept closer to him, before his former self won out and Kyle reached forward to grab Roy and pull him into a bone-crushing hug, not giving him any choice. ‘I’ve returned for you.’

‘Err what?’

‘For you.’ There was a pause as Roy looked up at him seeing a conflict rage across his beautiful face. ‘Well not **for you** exactly. But I needed, wanted, to talk to you, to explain…everything.’

‘I don’t know what-‘

‘You don’t have to say anything. I’m not even-’ Again a silence as Kyle seemed to argue with himself. ‘It’s difficult…’

‘I can see that.’ Roy pulled himself away from the man’s embrace, as comfortable as it was. ‘Look, you’ve been gone a long while, I thought you were dead. I fucking grieved for you! Oliver just finished pulling the same shit…And Oliver? Are you here for him?’

‘Vengeance?’ He seemed to think for another minute before shaking his head, ‘No. I have no interest in getting between you.’

‘Um, thanks?’ Roy frowned, ‘but uh, we’re not-‘

‘Agh.’ Kyle sunk to his knees, agony rippling across his features. ‘Damn it.’

‘What is it?’

‘I can’t…’ he trailed off as he balled his hands into fists, liquid the consistency of grey paint leaking out of his clenched hands. Roy backed away as Kyle was thrust upwards and the metal liquid surged around him, binding itself to his body, over his clothes until he was once again covered in the material. Onslaught straightened up, only his head free of the metal, his eyes somehow shining even brighter than before. He reached out a hand to calm Roy, the liquid swimming around his fingers.

‘Sorry. It seems I can’t release as often as I used to.’ He managed a small smile, ‘Guess I’m trapped as Onslaught. But we should go, get you back to Oliver.’ Before Roy could protest he found himself floating in the air just in front of Onslaught. ‘Figured it’d be easier just to levitate you this time. Don’t worry, I’d never let you fall.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re having a hard time imaging Onslaught’s new form, he looks similar to the Silver Surfer, although only in the type of material, the shininess of the liquid and the metallic nature of it. Also drew a lot of inspiration from the Metal Men, a DC comics group that are pretty much unknown (3rd Link). See below:
> 
> http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/11119/111190794/4202251-6476988153-Silve.jpg
> 
> http://s211.photobucket.com/user/jaaanu__baaaba/media/Creative/liquid-metal-magnet-5.jpg.html
> 
> http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140220205930/marvel_dc/images/2/28/Metal_Men_Prime_Earth_001.jpg


	24. Chapter 24

Roy led Onslaught towards the heavy metal door that had replaced the front double doors. He was about to gesture to the camera to get them inside when he heard a screeching of metal on metal. He glanced back to see Kyle's hand outstretched, the strange liquid seeping back into his skin as he devoted his all concentration to opening the door. Roy took a step back as the door began to slowly swing outwards. 

‘Uh, thanks, I guess. Felicity would’ve…’ He trailed off as he noted the strain on Kyle’s face, jaw prominent as he gritted his teeth. ‘Well, ok, great.’ 

‘Go inside.’ Kyle ordered as he pushed Roy ahead of him, letting the door close behind them. ‘Now take me to the Arrow.’

‘Uh, yeah, sure. But can’t we-‘

‘No. I’ve been following you, shadowing your movements, I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with Malcolm Merlyn, he must be retrieved.’

‘Um, yeah, that’d be nice, but why the rush?’

Kyle paused by the empty dance floor and looked at Roy, ‘Do you know what they’ll do to him if you don’t get him back?’

Roy looked away, ‘Interrogation, right?’

‘And worse, suffering, pain, agony, until he’ll tell them whatever they want. And I’m not letting that happen, I can’t take the risk that he’ll…’ He stopped speaking, as though he had revealed too much and Roy stared at him. A few minutes passed and then Kyle began to speak again as though nothing had happened, ‘Besides you’ve been marked, you’ll be safest with the Arrow.’ 

That seemed to be it and Roy shrugged before pointing towards the hidden entrance to the Arrowcave. He waited for Kyle to move ahead of him, not really wanting to go back to Oliver so soon after their fight. But the other man was standing still, Roy looked back to see the liquid metal creep up over his exposed skin until it covered him completely in its shimmering silver grey casing. The featureless faceplate turned to look at him and Roy couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the stare. He licked his lips nervously and opened the door for the metahuman, walking down the stairs first, the soft and slightly wet thread of Onslaught close behind him.

 

Oliver looked up as he heard the upstairs door open and turned away from Laurel’s tear stained face. She had been back for about twenty minutes, not angry anymore, not quite upset. Felicity pressed a hot cup of tea into her hands while Oliver talked to her and it wasn’t long before the story came out. Her encounter with Merlyn, the arrival of the League of Assassins and the revelations that it was Thea who had called them. At first Oliver was pissed off that Merlyn had been captured, concerned that Thea had effectively killed her father, but then Laurel had broken down. He frowned at her in surprise, there was no love lost between her and Merlyn, but she told him between guilty sobs that the League had taken Roy as well. Her explanation that he was defending Merlyn was ignored as Oliver slumped against the table, not hearing anything but a rushing in his ears.

But now as he saw Roy’s familiar clothes coming down the stairs followed by the man himself, Oliver rose up quickly, a smile breaking out on his face. That expression dimmed however as he saw the spectre that followed the young archer down. There was something about the way the figure moved; a deadly grace that spoke to years of training and practice. The fact it was covered in a wet slick cocoon of silvery grey metal wasn't exactly helping it to appear non-threatening. Oliver nodded warily at it. 

‘So, Roy, uh, glad you’re ok. Is that, a, um…?’

Roy looked between them and shrugged non-committedly. ‘Yeah I’m fine, Oliver.’ He turned to address the figure, ‘Uh, hey can you pull back a little, I think you’re freaking them out.’

Oliver stared as the figure retracted the head portion of the metal, watching as it pooled around his neck like some sort of hood. He frowned for a moment, recognising the face beneath, the kaleidoscope eyes that twirled and rotated in a manner that was both fascinating and disturbing, then took a step back. Oliver wet his lips as the man tilted his head as if to study the archer better. 

‘You.’ 

‘I am Onslaught, formerly of ARGUS.’ His voice had changed but it was the same face Oliver had stared down nine months ago, the eyes were new though, creepy too. ‘I have come to offer my support in retrieving Malcolm Merlyn.’

‘Formerly of ARGUS?’ Roy mutters. There was something weird about the way Onslaught spoke, not just the change in tone but the way he used the words, and the strange echo in his voice didn’t make Oliver feel any better.

Onslaught turns to look at the speaker, ‘That is correct. Our views no longer align.’

‘So why would you want to save Merlyn?’ Oliver asked.

‘Merlyn is inconsequential, it is Roy Harper we must save.’

‘Err, wait what?’ Roy broke in.

‘As…the other one told you, you have been marked by the League as someone who defends Merlyn and thus all his actions. You are in grave danger.’

‘Great,' He sounded bitter, then confused. 'So why Merlyn?’

‘He can used to bargain with.’

Oliver frowned, ‘You want to trade him to save Roy?’

‘Unless you intend on taking out the entire League of Assassins?’ Onslaught looks between them as Laurel and Felicity turn to Oliver, judgement on their faces. There was silence for a moment. ‘I thought not.’

‘It’s not that simple, we need Merlyn, not just to train us, or train me to take on Ra’s al Ghul. We should get him back for my sister’s sake. She doesn’t realise what she’s done, killing her father I mean.’ Oliver looked at them all as Onslaught watched him impassively. ‘Come on Roy, don’t you have anything to say?’

‘You know Oliver, I never thought that you’d value Merlyn’s life over mine.’ He said somewhat sourly.

‘What? No, I, I just thought that you’d want him back?’

‘The Arrow is right,’ Onslaught moved towards him, ‘perhaps saving Thea’s immortal soul is worth the risk.’

‘Um, sure I guess her soul is important…’ Oliver sounded unsure but then rallied. ‘Ok, so where is he being kept?’

‘There’s a helipad on the docks that they’ll probably use. It’s down near the boat club if these memories are accurate.' He paused then nodded. 'I should hurry.’

‘You?’ Oliver hitched a brow.

‘Yes, I will go. Roy Harper must be protected. You can come I suppose.’ Onslaught added as an afterthought as Oliver glared at him. Roy hid a snigger as Oliver stood up and approached the metahuman.

‘If anyone’s going, it’s me. This is my town. I’m the Arrow.’

‘Oh yes, the other one has told me all about the mighty Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow.’ The strange tone fluxed between cynical and neutral as Onslaught’s face twisted into a smile. ‘It might be your “town” but where were you when Roy needed you? We thought you were together, but it seems we were wrong.’

Oliver hesitates but pushes past the man and grabs his bow. ‘Look, I don’t know you, and the 'other one', as you call him, was an asshole, so back the fuck off. And stay away from my…Stay away from Roy!’

Onslaught stares at him, face twisted in rage and for a second Roy thinks he’s going to attack Oliver but then his expression slips into one of bemusement and he shrugs. ‘As you wish, Arrow.’ Roy breathes a sigh of relief and watches Oliver go. 

 

Onslaught levitated the arrow and with a twiddle of his fingers made it rotate as he examined it. Roy watched him and wetted his lips to speak, but then the metahuman raised a hand and let the arrow float gently back to the table. He walks over to the case where Roy’s armour hangs, his head tilting as he examines it, a frown creasing his brow.

‘I know this…’

‘Yeah, you designed it, remember?’ Roy came to stand beside him. ‘You do right?’

‘No, not exactly. It’s like a dream, I get flashes of the other one’s life. Much like he gets of mine, I’m sure.’

‘So who are you?’

‘Who? No, "what," is the question.’ There was silence for a moment as Onslaught made Roy’s new sword float up to eye level. ‘I am Eternity.’

‘Uh…great?’ Roy waited for more, but like last time Onslaught didn’t elaborate, just stood there. ‘Hey, uh, Kyle? Have you been following me?’

There was a slight nod and then he turned to face Roy. ‘Yes.’

‘Can I talk to him?’

‘We are one and the same.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t sound like him, you said it yourself, his memories aren’t yours exactly. Can’t you just retract?’

‘Very well.’ Onslaught closed his eyes and Roy watched as the metal pulled back completely into his skin and the man opened his eyes again. The same twisting vortex if a little dimmer. ‘Ugh, it gets worse every time I do that, a few months ago I could barely sustain a gravity field, now I feel sick if I’m not.’

Roy nodded as if he understood, but he was confused. ‘Umm, you’ve been giving me arrows, right? Special arrows?’

‘Yeah, you’re gonna need them. Don’t ask me how I know, I just, I have this feeling that something bad is coming. Coming for you.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense.’

‘It’s not meant to.’ Kyle walked away from Laurel and Felicity who were looking at them. ‘Onslaught…when I’m covered in the metal, it’s like I know things, the threads of the universe revealed, glimpses of possible futures...it’s hard to explain.’

‘What is he?’

‘Like I said, Eternity.' He stopped talking and turned to look at Roy. 'You know, ARGUS has no idea why people exposed to the particle accelerator explosion got different abilities, but they have a good enough explanation as to why I can control gravity. The event horizon of the explosion was open for less than a second and I was bombarded by what was on the other side. I think it’s a manifestation of elemental force.’

‘Does it hurt? I saw in a video that you’ve got metal things attached here,’ Roy said as he approached Kyle, hand reached out to brush his loosely fitting t-shirt. But before he could make contact the other man stepped away. 

‘Yeah, they’re ports, designed to allow the release of the Neutronium fluids that build up when I use my powers. The human body was never meant to control the powers of the cosmos. But no, it doesn’t hurt.’ Roy approached him again as Kyle eyed him warily. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I thought you were dead,’ Roy’s voice was soft, ‘can’t we…?’

‘But you have Oliver.’

‘Well, no.’

‘What? Have you not…’ Kyle frowned at him, ‘I thought you liked him. No, I know you did. Has nothing happened between you two?’

‘It’s been busy.’ Roy turned away from him, hiding the disappointment in his eyes, although he wasn’t sure what to expect. Kyle, Onslaught, had been following him for close to a month and hadn’t even shown himself. ‘So, there’s nothing between us?’

‘Hmm.’ Kyle looked at Roy’s back, the urge to return to his protective silvered state overpowering. ‘While my ‘death’ was not at a moment I would have liked, it would have happened eventually. I was a fool, to become involved with you.’

‘Oh.’

‘That part of my life is over. There is only Onslaught now,’ his voice morphing as the silver liquid once again covers his body. ‘Kyle Westen…he surfaces from time to time and his memories are strong, useful. But the more his body is consumed by the metal, the more of him is devoured. But know this,’ he was completely covered again, shapes of armour plating emerging from the liquid. ‘if you ever need me, I will be your shield, Roy Harper.’ 

‘Um…ok.’ Roy waited for more, but that seemed to be it. Kyle’s face was again obscured by the metallic liquid and he went still, even as it flowed eerily around his body. Roy bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything, before turning away from him and heading back to check on the monitors where Felicity was quietly typing.

 

Oliver seethed beneath his helmet as he powered through the empty streets towards the docklands. It had nothing to do with Merlyn getting captured, or Nyssa taking Roy, or even his fight with Roy earlier. No, it was the fact that **he** had come back. Just when he thought he might finally get somewhere with Roy that ARGUS asshole comes back. Maybe he really wasn’t with them anymore, but did it matter? The guy was obviously still into Roy…Oliver skidded slightly as that thought grinded inside him. Ok, so maybe the fact that it was Westen who managed to save Roy and not him, Oliver, who got there first was the real problem. Oliver knew Roy had a thing for the hero type, it explained why he was so determined to be with the Arrow, and not just romantically, but to be a hero too. 

Oliver slowed down as he approached the helipad, spotting a group of black-clad figures hustling Merlyn across the windswept open pad. Another figure, Nyssa he guessed, was standing off to one side looking out across the bay. 

 

Merlyn was quiet, biding his time until he could make a move. He had heard that Roy had been rescued somehow, the muttered responses to Nyssa’s demands had spoken of ‘moving shadows’ and ‘a great strength.’ Merlyn frowned at that before being pushed towards the center of the pad. He looked back at Nyssa, about to yell a challenge at her before the roar of a bike drowns him out. Nyssa spins around to see Oliver jump off and roll forward, bow pulled out fluidly and pointing at her. There is a moment of stillness before Merlyn attacks, catching the first guard by surprise, the second finds his blade knocked straight out of his grasp. There is a deep thrumming of blades in the air off in the distance and Merlyn knows his time is running out. He spares a glance for Oliver who is fighting Nyssa off with his bow. He almost rolls his eyes; brought a bow to the sword fight, again. But then one of the men hit him on the side of the head and the world swims around him. Oliver barely hears his cry of pain, half turns as the midnight black helicopter hovers just above the pad, the down draft intense as the pilot struggles to hold position long enough to load the prisoner. The Arrow is about to chase after Merlyn when a laugh reaches his ears, he turns to see Nyssa smiling through a bloody lip. 

‘Finally, Sarah will have justice!’

Oliver glares at her and releases the arrow loaded in his weapon. Nyssa gasps as the cords wrap around her tight. At least he has a hostage.

 

‘Perhaps if you had accepted my offer of help, you wouldn’t be so upset right now.’ Oliver glared at Onslaught and then turned to Roy, the tone of the shimmering silver warrior was grating on his already stretched nerves.

‘He wasn’t always like this right? He’s like some sort of machine, or an alien.’

‘Yeah, I think it’s to do with the metallic substance, he’s the same as ever when he’s not, you know covered in it.’ Roy whispered back, even as the metahuman looked between them, as though confused. Onslaught flicked his fingers and all of them stared in fascination as the metal armour liquefied and began to retract from the exposed surfaces, leaving him standing in their midst in his t-shirt and combat pants. Within a few seconds he was back to normal, his eyes still the same eerie feature, blinking as he looked at the newly arrived Diggle who was staring at him. 

‘Ah, much better. Sorry about that. It’s…necessary.’ He nodded gratefully as Roy handed him his jacket. ‘So, you’ve got a captive? I doubt they’ll trade for her.’

‘You’re right. But she is a source of information and leverage.’ Oliver answered as he walked over to the cage they had put Nyssa in. ‘We just have to get it.’

‘Uh, Oliver? What are you going to do?’ Felicity asked as she got up from the desk, her voice taking on that concerned tone he was familiar with. 

He sighed and responded coldly, ‘I need the room.’

‘Uh…’

‘Everyone out.’ Oliver waited until it was only him, Diggle and Kyle. ‘You’re staying?’

‘I’m a trained interrogator, I know how to break people, and sure you can beat her for hours or rip out her nails or shoot her full of arrows, or whatever it is you’ve done before. But you follow my lead and she’ll talk without us even touching her.’

Oliver looked at him hard, seeing the younger man stare back at him with his intense eyes, ‘Fine. But she won’t break easy.’

Kyle grinned at him, a shark’s grin, ‘Trust me, I’m a professional.’

Oliver nodded slowly, ‘You can manipulate gravity, Roy said.’

‘Among other things, yes.’ He walks over to the cage, his eyes studying Nyssa as she kneels calmly, her own eyes closed. Diggle glanced back at him before pulling Oliver off to one side. Kyle could hear the whispers of their conversation, he almost smiled again; ah the state of Oliver’s poor broken soul. There was a moment of silence and then Kyle heard Diggle leave, Oliver moving to stand beside him.

‘Ok.’

‘Shall we?’

 

Nyssa opened her eyes and focused on Oliver, ignoring the other one, not even glancing to him, even as the urge to do so almost overwhelmed her. Nyssa disregards him, focusing on remaining calm and strong, she cannot let the doubt enter her mind, because what he is, is something she has never encountered before. Even still she can feel his kaleidoscopic eyes boring into her. 

‘What do you want? My father will never trade Merlyn for me.’

‘It is not Merlyn we want.’ Oliver glanced at him.

‘Err…’

‘No, Merlyn isn’t that important. It’s your father. Oliver here has just being dying to meet him again. And you know your father does too.’ Her eyes blinked and Kyle grinned. ‘Yeah I thought so, no one else has beaten the Demon’s Head and lived, have they?’

Nyssa licked her lips and glared at Oliver as he watched Kyle continue to niggle at the chink in her armour. 

‘You’re going to tell us where the League HQ is. Not because we’re going to rescue Merlyn, or even for Oliver to get his chance on Ra’s al Ghul, again, but because you want to. You want to prove to your father just how dangerous the Arrow really is. You want him to turn around and tell you that you were right all along. Even if there’s blood coming out at the same time.’ His voice had dropped to a whisper and Nyssa felt her resolve breaking. Somehow this…man knew exactly what she thought of her father. She finally let her gaze shift to him and gasped a little before feeling ashamed. But then she was sucked into his gaze and looked mesmerized into his rotating silver and black eyes. Nyssa bobbed back and forth a moment before pulling herself away, it had been like watching the slow movements of a predator in the seconds before he struck. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

‘Fine. If you want it so much… Nanda Parbat, beneath the Hindu Kush. Good luck, you’ll need it.’ She managed to finish smugly as Oliver turned away, moving upstairs. Kyle hesitated a moment and pulled a crumpled picture from his pants. He waited until Oliver had left and turned back to Nyssa. She watched him cautiously.

‘Here, look at this. Do you know her? Have you seen her in Nanda Parbat? She’d be a prisoner.’ He held the paper out to her, a somewhat blurry picture taken from one of the ARGUS high orbit satellites. She frowned a moment, a memory tugging at her. ‘Well?’

‘No. I haven’t.’

Kyle sighed and folded the picture in half and thrust it back into his pocket. ‘You should know better than to lie.’

‘I don’t know her. I can’t remember the faces of all the fools who come looking for something they can never get.’

Kyle laughed softly to himself and walked away from her towards the stairs. 

 

‘Where’s Oliver?’ He asked when he found the other four lounging against the bar.

‘Oh, uh he went to check on Thea.’ Roy looked over at him, ‘So…how’d it go?’

‘Fine. Oliver didn’t touch her. Nyssa told us.’ He grimaced slightly and closed his eyes. ‘Excuse me.’ He unzipped Roy’s jacket and tossed it at him as the increasing familiar sight of him morphing into Onslaught was witnessed by them all. After a moment of silence he stretched his hands out nodded his thanks at them. ‘My apologies, the captive was most co-operative, but I doubt she will remain so. You will want to watch her.’ 

‘Great.’ Roy replied, ‘So you and Oliver are going after Merlyn, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want me-‘

‘No. You must remain here, Arsenal.’

‘Super.’ Roy grunted, a bit put out by the sudden bluntness, but he remembered his earlier conversations with Onslaught had the same emotionless candour. He sighed and settled down to wait for Oliver to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pace of updates has been a bit slow of late, but we're pretty close to the end of it, especially with what happened in this week's episode :( So I'll try and increase output.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit short, but I've been having writer's block lately :(

Oliver looked around at them, exasperation on his face. ‘I’m going, and that’s final.’

‘Oliver, are you insane? You can’t go in there alone!’ Felicity glared at him.

‘He will not be alone, I will be with him.’ Onslaught replied quickly before Oliver or Roy could object. ‘I would advise bringing John Diggle as well; extra firepower. And leaving Roy Harper here to maintain a watch of Nyssa al Ghul.’ 

‘Huh.’ Roy muttered to himself before looking up to see Diggle nodding slowly.

‘It’d be good to have someone of your…experience with us, Onslaught.’

‘Thank you. I must go make preparations if we are to get to the Hindu Kush before morning.’ He nodded at them all, pausing when he caught Roy eyes. There was a moment there, when they looked at each other, Oliver noticed, before Onslaught broke contact and moved quickly towards the exit. He could hear Felicity and Laurel talking to him, but Oliver’s gaze was focused on Roy's face as it shifted through a range of emotions.

‘Oliver?’

‘Hmm?’ Oliver turned back to the women. ‘I know it seems a little crazy-‘

‘A little?’

‘But I’m not leaving Merlyn to die at the hands of Ra’s al Ghul.’ He stopped, realising the irony, ‘And I know he’d never do the same for me, but remember I’m not doing this for him, I’m doing this for Thea.’

‘Walking into the monster’s den, you think that’s wise?’ Roy spoke then, his voice low and angry. ‘We’ve already lost you once this year Oliver. To Ra’s al Gul, what makes you think this time will be any different?’

‘Well like Onslaught said, I’ll have backup. Trust me Roy, and you too Felicity and Laurel.’ He inclined his head and Diggle and the man nodded, moving back downstairs to gather his guns and equipment. Oliver could still feel their stares on his neck but he just shrugged and moved to follow Onslaught’s path, he wanted to speak to Thea once more before he left. ‘I’ll be back, guys, soon.’

 

Oliver looked up at the sleek black aircraft awaiting them at the little airstrip outside of Starling. He had been about to call in a few favours to get them access to a Gulfstream, but it seemed Onslaught had a few to call in of his own. The plane was humming softly, the engines idling at barely a whisper, had it not been for the shimmering air behind the exhaust ports he would have sworn it was powered down. Diggle would be arriving soon, he had taken some time to talk to Lyla, but Onslaught was standing nearby, just at the start of the runway, appearing to look down the long straight, the blinking lights holding his attention. Oliver had been wary about accepting his help at first, but Diggle was right, whatever he was now, Kyle Westen was a trained ARGUS commander. Plus Oliver wouldn’t object to the metahuman being with him rather than staying behind to ‘watch over’ Roy. Oliver had seen the way Roy’s face had almost crumpled when Onslaught left. He fumed over that emotion, but then, Oliver reflected, you never forget your first. The fires of jealousy began to stir in his stomach again but Oliver stamped them down quickly. 

Onslaught could feel Oliver’s eyes on him and turned to face the archer, only to find him looking towards the road, hoping that Diggle would arrive soon. The metahuman returned to his former position, finding the runway lights to be a comforting distraction as he pondered the coming mission. He was focused now, reaching down to feeling the crumpled texture of the paper in his pocket, the liquid opening to allow his hand in. He was close now, he just had to hold on a little more: the Green Arrow raiding Nanda Parbat would be a perfect distraction. The sound of a car turning into the empty parking lot alerted him to Diggle’s arrival and he turned around and began walking towards Oliver.

‘It is time. This will not be a very comfortable ride. The X-39 was built for speed and airdrops.’

‘Great.’

Onslaught reached inside the open door port and pulled out two bags. ‘Take these.’

‘Uh, are those parachutes?’

Onslaught looked at him, deadpan, ‘Yes.’

‘Um…’ Oliver waited for him to elaborate but the metahuman just watched him, silent. ‘Ok then. Diggle let’s go!’ 

 

Onslaught watched them climb into the somewhat cramped cargo space and ensured they were strapped in tight. He gestured for Oliver and Diggle to sit opposite each other, their knees almost touching as he pushed a button to close the door. Onslaught took a look around the darkened interior and flipped a switch. Oliver blinked as harsh red light filled the cargo bay. The metahuman moved forward to speak to the pilots and Oliver glanced around. There were only four seats, one each beside him and Diggle, the rear of the craft stopped suddenly and sloped upwards, he guessed that was the door where they pushed the cargo out for airdrops. There was a loud growling behind him and he felt the thrum of the engines as Onslaught moved back to sit beside them. Oliver glanced over to see Diggle close his eyes as the aircraft’s engines spooled up to a thunderous roar. Then the plane jerked forward and began to pick up speed. Oliver gripped the sides of the seat as the plane began to take off, the strange sensation of leaving the ground hit him right in the stomach and he closed his eyes as they began a steep ascent. After what seemed like forever they levelled out and Oliver opened his eyes again. Even in the red lit interior, Diggle looked sick. Oliver wasn’t feeling too great either, but as he glanced over to Onslaught, he could see his face was exposed and there was a contented smile playing about his features.

‘You enjoyed that?’ Oliver rose his voice over the roar of the engines.

‘Of course. I love flying.’ Westen replied, his voice back to its human cadence. ‘You should get some sleep. It’ll take us about an hour to get there.’

Oliver blinked, sure he had misheard, ‘What?’

‘Supersonic. We should feel the boom…now!’ There was a shudder and Oliver looked around him. ‘Rest Oliver, you’ll need it.’ He glanced at Westen and saw his eyes closed, his face becoming peaceful as he let the rhythm of the aircraft lull him to sleep. Rest was less forthcoming to Oliver though, uneasy at the sudden turns and dives the plane took as it soared through the sky.

 

It wasn’t as if there was sudden deceleration, but Oliver got the strangest feeling they were no longer moving. Perhaps it was the fact that Onslaught had outstretched his hands some thirty seconds earlier. He looked around at the metahuman, seeing strain in his face, the jovial humour he had barely an hour ago was gone.

‘We are here.’

‘Really? Why haven’t we landed?’

‘This aircraft is capable of hovering over a target and therefore of vertical takeoff or landing. But that is why you have parachutes. Put those on, oxygen masks too. At this height you will need them.’

Diggle looked at Oliver as Onslaught moved past them to the cargo door release, pushing it. A great howling engulfed the cargo bay as Oliver felt the breath be sucked from his lungs, he didn’t feel the expected pull though, and glanced over to see Onslaught’s right hand splayed outwards, keeping them pinned down. Slowly the pressure equalised and Onslaught lowered his hand.

The jet hovers silently above Nanda Parbat and Oliver looks at Onslaught. ‘You want us to what?’

‘It is a combat drop. Kyle Westen has done it many times. His memories indicate it is both an enjoyable and safe experience. It will be fine.’

‘Uhh, I don’t want to jump out of a plane…’ Oliver looked away from him, trying to hide the unease on his face.

‘You said it was time sensitive?’

‘Not this time sensitive.’

‘Very well,’ he raised his brows and spoke to the pilots through the intercom. ‘Go for silent landing.’

‘Uh, hang on, why’s the door still open?’

‘Well, you guys might be chickening out, but someone needs eyes on the ground.’ The metal liquid slid down for a moment as Kyle grinned cheekily at them. In a second it was gone and Onslaught consumed him again. He moved towards the open door.

Oliver reached out to stop him but before he can speak the man jumps out of the plane. ‘Fucking metahumans!’

 

Oliver nodded to Diggle and they scrambled down the gravel slope towards the lights in the distance. He had his bow at the ready while Diggle fixed a silencer to his gun. They moved quickly through the darkness until they were close enough to make out features on the stonework Oliver held up a hand.

‘There’s no guards.’

‘They have been disabled.’ What they assumed was a rock formation moved towards them.

Oliver muffled a yelp of surprise as Diggle raised a brow at him. Onslaught stepped out of the night. ‘Minimal force only. The way to the door is clear. We should move.’

‘Yeah, great, fuck.’ Oliver muttered under his breath, irritated that the metahuman could unnerve him so easily. ‘So we’re undetected?’

‘Yes.’ Onslaught confirms in that strange voice of his. ‘All of them to the door, no detectible electronic security systems. If needs be I can generate a four second EMP, but that would be unwise.’

‘What, like a nuke?’ Diggle glanced at him.

‘Yes. Exactly.’

‘Yeah, don’t do that.’

They stopped at the door and Oliver reached for an explosive arrow but Onslaught tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Allow me.’ The archer shrugged as if he didn’t care. There was a loud rumbling, the grating of stone on stone as the massive door slowly swung outwards, the sound echoing through the castle halls. Oliver glares at him, ‘Oh yes, soooo much better.’

‘Your sarcasm is not appreciated.’ Onslaught replied as he thrust out a hand and slammed the first responders backwards into a wall, their swords dropping from broken hands as they screamed in pain. Oliver glared at the back of his head as Onslaught led them through the castle, skimming over the surface, floating above the ground as he brushed aside the waves of guards as though they were leaves in the wind. Even as the League deployed more aggressive measures against them Onslaught was unstoppable in his advance and Oliver began to see the benefits of bringing him; arrows fell from the air, swords are wrenched from hands, and great waves of his strange liquid metal batter foes aside as though they were ragdolls. Oliver suddenly becomes very glad that Westen is not seeking revenge for that attempt on his life. 

Oliver has a way to track Merlyn and soon they are moving with purpose, until they find the Dark Archer at last. Oliver grimaces as he looks on. 

‘Mhhm, roasting him over hot coals, very traditional.’ Onslaught hears Kyle mutter to him, before he begins manipulating the irons holding him up and guiding Merlyn’s beaten bloodied body down towards them with a controlled movement of his hand. Just as he did so Onslaught felt a sharp sudden pain beneath his shoulder blades and he released him, before crashing to the floor. The sound of a gate hitting the ground was dull in his ears as Diggle crouched over him. The metahuman glances back to see an assassin standing nearby, a latticework of crystals pointing at him and fire burns through his skin. But before long it all subsided into darkness.

 

Oliver wakes up to find himself and Diggle chained together in a dungeon. He looks around the low stone room, the morning sun shining down on them from a grate higher up. He licks his dry lips, feeling the dried blood and runs a hand over his face, searching for injuries. Only a few scraps and bumps. Oliver frowns as he sees Diggle looking at him and then twists around, seeing only the dusty corners of the cell.

‘Where’s Onslaught?’

‘Ra’s took him.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know, some weapon, who knows with this lot?’

‘Diggle, I’m sorry. I should never have let you come.’ Oliver said as he looked at his friend.

‘Come on Oliver, it was my choice, you needed me.’

‘Yeah I guess, I just wish we could stop the League getting the drop on us all the time.’

‘I know.’ Diggle glanced at him. ‘Hey Oliver, if we get out of this, are you going to tell him?’

‘Huh?’

‘Roy. Are you going to tell him?’

‘I, I don’t…’ Oliver looked away, unwilling to meet Diggle’s gaze. 

‘Really, Oliver? You know he idolises you, right? And more than that. I’ve seen him, ‘course I’ve seen you too.’ Diggle shrugged, ‘I’m just saying that if we somehow get out of this one, stop waiting for the “right” moment and just go for it. Otherwise you’ll be waiting forever and Roy’ll just move on.’

Oliver didn’t reply, just stared at the wall until the door opens up and one of the black clad guards moves in towards him.

‘My master wants to see you.’

 

Meanwhile up in the throne room…

‘I’ve never quite seen something like you before.’ Ra’s walks around Onslaught, still encased as he was in his metal shell, feeling the ache just barely as he concentrates on pooling his power, gathering it together for one final burst. The man with the crystal weapon had caught him off-guard, but its effects were weaker now that he had created a buffer between himself and it. He still wasn’t sure what it was and Ra’s only referred to it as ‘ancient magic,’ something Onslaught dismissed instantly. He almost had enough to stop the pain entirely, but he gathered yet more, letting it bleed into the air around him, tiny pebbles and fragments of rock lifting off the ground nearby. But Ra’s keeps on talking…

And then Oliver is brought before them. The guards step back and Ra’s turns away from Onslaught; he can see the metahuman chained up behind the Demon’s Head and frowns slightly. Oliver watched carefully, searching for an opening, a weapon of opportunity, a chance anything. He blinks and looks up at Ra’s.

‘What?’

‘I want you to become the next Ra’s al Ghul.’ As Oliver stared at him, there was a strange smile playing about his lips.


	26. Chapter 26

Ra’s stands over him, hand resting on his sword hilt as the offer hangs in the air. Oliver stands up slowly, looking the man in the eyes. There is a subtle shift in the air, as though the guards relaxed a fraction. Oliver’s mind is afire with questions and puzzlement clouds his features. Just as he was about to speak Ra’s holds up a hand and points behind him to the door. Oliver is guided towards a nearby training room, the clash of swords barely audible. 

He glanced back to see Onslaught retract the armour around his face and hair, those eyes boring into him as he was dragged off to who knows where. The man with the glowing crystal device walking slowly after the metahuman. Oliver was about to ask after him, but then Ra’s began to speak, instructing his students in the art of combat. Oliver watched him carefully as the man talks of guidance and paths to choose. Oliver just listens, watching curiously as Ra’s continues to guide him around the fortress. 

Everything is very feudal, he thinks, a feeling that lingers as he sits beside Ra’s at the dinner table, the stone room lit by the flickering lights of torches all around. Oliver wonders how he should approach this, will Ra’s simply kill him if he refuses? Or should he accept? How much power could he wield from here, how much good could this army do if it had the Arrow at its head? Oliver felt the pull of it and resisted, the League _could_ be great, but its legacy was one of blood and misery and death. Oliver didn’t think he could take up that mantle. 

Ra’s spoke then, interrupting his thoughts. ‘I know what it’s like, you know. To be caught between two people, your own personalities, and all your attempts to balance the scales only results in further schism.’ He grinned humourlessly as he poured dark red wine into Oliver’s cup. ‘The struggle between two men: Oliver Queen and the Arrow, both pulling on you and both not giving you what you seek.’

‘But becoming Ra’s al Ghul will?’ Oliver muttered as he took a sip.

‘Oliver Queen is a man destined to be alone, to love…another man he knows he cannot have.’ Ra’s met his eyes and took a drink of his own.

Oliver blinked, how the hell did he know about Roy? ‘You don’t know me.’ He replied defensively.

‘Perhaps, but I know your type. I know what will happen. It’s already begun. The Arrow teeters on the brink. Will he fall or will he fly?’ Ra’s broke their stare and cut his meat with his knife, spearing a piece on the end and waving it about as if to illustrate his point. ‘They’ll leave you Oliver, maybe not yet, maybe not all together, but they will. You’ll be expelled from Starling, the city will turn against you as your image as a hero shatters into the pool of blood you’ll leave in your wake. And then they’ll hunt you, follow you, kill all your allies and then finally you. You’ll end your crusade the way you began it: alone.’ 

Oliver glared at him, the uncomfortable truth in Ra’s eyes, the sinking realisation that it had started already; first Roy, then Laurel. How soon would Felicity abandon him?

 

They had brought him back to the throne room, keeping him chained like some animal to the back wall. The man with the crystal weapon hadn’t left him since the morning, his eyes droopy but still remaining focused. Onslaught had become perfectly still, not even his liquid metal armour moved, a strange mirror the assassin looked at every few minutes. Oliver had gone with Ra’s for some time and the metahuman felt the faintest pricks of concern, but he supressed the emotions welling up from his human side and concentrated on holding the bubble of power he had created intact until it was time to strike.

Oliver was several floors beneath him, looking at the natural rock pool the room had been built around. He tilted his head as Ra’s explained its powers and whispered in surprise, ‘The Fountain of Youth?’

‘Some call it that. Although, eternal youth is not in its power. I am dying, my body no longer reacts to the waters as it once did. I do not have many years left, soon I will not even be able to hold a blade as I used to.’ Ra’s paused and looked at Oliver. ‘You don’t seem that surprised?’

Oliver shrugged, ‘I’ve seen a lot of things I thought were impossible.’ He thought of Barry and Onslaught and shook his head. ‘So no, I do believe that the water can keep you alive beyond your years.’

‘Hmm. Do you know why I have chosen you? Over all the others I have known, over my own flesh and blood even?’ Oliver was silent and Ra’s continued, ‘You did not defeat me in combat, but you did defeat death, and anyone who can pull that trick is welcome in my halls. But you did not merely rise after the fall, you endured, you became a better warrior; through strength of will. And that, that is what is needed to lead the League of Assassins.’

Oliver frowned at him. ‘My will is indeed strong, but so are my morals. I know what the League is for. I know that wherever you go, blood and carnage follow. I know you kill those you cannot control, those who refuse to bend or break. You exact a bloody retribution for perceived slights and will kill hundreds of innocent people just root out one guilty man. For all your talk of honour and justice, you are little better than butchers.’

Ra’s listened to Oliver’s tirade without emotion until he was finished and moved down to stand in front of him. ‘And you are better, Green Arrow? Because you measure your victory in captives now instead of blood? Besides, the League becomes what its master wants. Retribution? Righteousness? An army of peacekeepers? This can be a true tool in the arsenal of justice, your justice.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘What if I say no?’

‘Then you are free to leave.’ He snaps his fingers and Diggle and Merlyn are hauled out, a little bloody, but otherwise unhurt. ‘With your allies of course. A gesture of good faith.’

‘What about Onslaught? The other one.’ Oliver adds as Ra’s frowns.

‘It will remain.’

Oliver makes to object, but stops and looks over at the prisoners. Diggle looks furious, but Merlyn is just defeated, hanging in the arms of his guards. ‘You would give up the blood debt? And release his “defenders” from their bonds?’

‘Yes. All debts forgiven, all blood oaths waived. Roy Harper is no longer considered a target.’ 

Oliver paused for a moment. It was what he came here for, but Ra’s offer changed everything. Yet…Roy. He had to take it, had to keep Roy safe no matter what. As for the offer? 

‘Oliver?’ Ra’s called out to him, ‘take some time, think about what’s best for the Arrow.’

Oliver lingers for a moment, just long enough to debate answering right there and then. But he shakes his head and brushes past Ra’s and towards the door, nodding to the two men. ‘Let’s go.’

 

Oliver led them through the short canyon and pointed over the hill. ‘The plane should still be there. ARGUS can come back for Onslaught if they want him.’ He added as Merlyn shot him a look. Oliver didn’t like to think that he could have forced Ra’s to let Onslaught go, didn’t think it was that vital anyway. At least that was the justification he was trying to make to himself; he’d have to make up something better to satisfy Roy…

They crested the hill and were about to scramble down into the clearing when the concussive force of the flameless explosion knocked them over. Amid the storm of dust and gravel Oliver looked up to see an entire section of the castle’s upper structure bursting outwards, floating in the air for several minutes before it crashes down all around. The sound of the masonry tumbling to the earth is deafening, but Oliver reaches down to pull Diggle up as great clouds of dust surround the building and in the chaos, the archer fails to notice the shimmering silver-clad figure shoot outwards from the building.

 

Some moments previously, Ra’s had begun to question Onslaught, unaware of his resistance to the control weapon. He had forced the metahuman to lower the headpiece and was surprised to see his youthful features. Ra’s had dismissed his guards and settled in to interrogate the silent prisoner. This was a mistake, however. The first he realised of it was the dangerous look in the man’s unusual eyes. There was a moment of calm, perfect stillness and then it happened. Onslaught erupts with power then, a great wave of energy washes over them all and the guards are thrown backwards, Onslaught feels the chains that pin him to the wall snap apart like twigs and he rises up floating in the air, his face instantly covered by the protective metal and the weapon keeping his powers in check shatters into a million pieces.

‘I am unleashed!’ He roars as he rips the ornate doors from the wall and batters the surprised guards away from him with the flick of his fingers.

Onslaught swept down the long passages of the castle until at last he finds the deep cells. A subtle shift of his fingers and the wall in front of him crumbles to dust. The prisoner stares at him, blood running down her face from a dozen cuts, some fresh others old and broken.

‘You…’ She manages to murmur, her voice dry like ancient parchment. ‘I…tried…’

He nodded slowly and extended a hand towards her. She sighed and whimpered in pain before feeling a warm glow encapsulate her body as the shinning warrior pulled the chains apart and carried her back towards the throne room. Assassins try to run at him but find their momentum spent as they suddenly float in the air, weapons drifting harmlessly past.  
Onslaught returned to the throne room, gazes out over the shattered fortress wall, and the clouds of dust rising as more of the masonry falls away. He pulls the bedraggled woman towards him with a gentle flick of his hand and guides her weightless body through the air. He focuses his power into a shunt, propelling the woman out of a hole in the wall and far enough to land safely on the loose scree. But then he sagged, landing gently on his feet. His power sapped for the moment, Onslaught staggers over to where an errant pillar crashed through the wall and he climbs over the rubble and into the harsh desert beyond. There is a rumble as the masonry that was hanging in the air succumbs to gravity and crashes down onto the canyon floor. 

Ra’s reaches for his sword, but finds it missing, glancing up he sees it hanging in mid-air. He rolls quickly, the blade narrowly missing him. For the first time in a long stretch of years, he feels the clammy sensation of unease dripping down his spine. This new man, this Onslaught as Oliver had called him, was something else, something more. But the offer had been made. It was up to Queen now.

 

Onslaught did not need a plane to carry him back to the States, he hadn’t needed one to begin with. Instead he drifted lazily over the lands and oceans, the terrain turning to a blur beneath him as he created a bubble around himself and the prisoner, protecting her from the ravages of speed and wind. All too soon he had returned to where they had started from. He toyed with the idea of returning to the Arrowcave, as Roy called it, but Onslaught could feel the reservation from Kyle’s mind and agreed. They would return in a few nights, to leave the final gift, the last message, and then disappear into the ether. After all, he thought as he skimmed across the open water towards his destination, Roy Harper deserved happiness as much as the next man, or metahuman.

 

It took only fifty minutes longer for Oliver, Diggle and Merlyn to touch down in the same place as Onslaught had been standing. And several hours after that for Oliver to feel that they were finally safe. The offer Ra’s al Ghul had made weighed heavy on his mind, keeping him occupied on the flight home, even as the co-pilot patched them up. The others didn’t question him though, perhaps thinking about the events after their release. Even now as Oliver finished his call with Roy, standing on the balcony, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t given Ra’s a clear answer. Perhaps it was because he was wanted to tell Roy how he really felt, but not just tell him, show him, stop making excuses for all the times when they almost came together, and just be. Their conversation had been…neutral, even when Oliver told him that Onslaught wasn’t with them, even as he tried to make it sound better than it was (and failing) Roy didn’t seem to care too much. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing, maybe Oliver was reading too much into it. Regardless he wanted to give it a few days, for both of them, time to process everything that had happened with Ra’s and Onslaught.


	27. Chapter 27

Oliver walked across the empty floor of the club, moonlight streaming in through the barred windows. Roy was waiting for him, back turned as he stood at the bar. Oliver slowed his pace and watched as the younger man finished stirring his drink, raising the glass to his lips to take a sip. Oliver watched the way his face twisted into a mixture of pain and pleasure; the drink must be strong, but there was something almost cute in the way Roy drank it. Although perhaps “cute” wasn’t quite the word for Roy, Oliver felt it fitted him. He coughed and Roy turned sharply. Oliver continued coughing as he made his way to the bar.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, hurmph! Must have been the dust storm kicked up by the explosion.’

‘Yeah,’ Roy agreed slowly, ‘You know that was Onslaught, right? The way you described it, the floating masonry, the explosion without fire…sounds like him.’

‘Did he contact you?’ Oliver asked as he wiped his mouth. 

‘No. Maybe he’s dead, I doubt it, but he made it pretty clear that it wasn’t Kyle anymore, he’s not…He can’t.’ Roy trailed away.

Oliver nodded. ‘Huh, hasn’t stopped Barry. So far as I know.’ He added as Roy threw him a curious glance. ‘You heard from Merlyn?’

‘Him I have heard from. He called me after you left the loft.’ Roy seemed reluctant to speak about it. ‘He, uh, Merlyn said Ra’s just let you go. All of you, well except for Onslaught. Just like that.’

Oliver shifted uncomfortably, ‘Well, it, um…oh hey Diggle!’ He raised his hand in greeting as Roy stared at him. ‘So, uh, is Nyssa still below?’

Roy nodded and gestured for Oliver to follow him. ‘We had a little incident, nothing too major, Thea might have told her the truth and I might have shot her…but no big deal.’ Roy muttered even as he could feel Oliver’s gaze bore into the back of his head. 

 

Oliver looks over towards the cage, nodding his hello to Felicity as Roy moves away from him, hanging back near the targets to observe. Diggle asks Oliver the same question he had tried above; why were they released so easily? But it seems Oliver doesn’t want to talk about it and avoids answering his friend. Roy frowns at that, Merlyn hadn’t asked him to find out exactly, but he was interested now, clearly something had happened at Nanda Parbat.

He watches as Oliver approaches the cage, his brows rising as the archer opens the door and releases Nyssa. Even the assassin is surprised, ‘My father would never trade my life for Merlyn’s. What trick is this?’

‘Just…Go home Nyssa.’ Oliver grunts as though tired with her. Roy watches the woman as she passes close to him. There’s a moment when they lock stares and Roy swears he sees something in her gaze; respect maybe? But he blinks and it’s gone. And so is she. When Roy turns back to Oliver, the archer is bent over Felicity’s console muttering about “recent crimes.”

‘City has been quiet since you left, Oliver.’ He says, moving closer to him. ‘No word-‘

‘Hang on!’ Felicity interrupts him as she brings up the police chatter. ‘There’s a robbery in progress down on Wharf 22, ICE Warehouse too. Cops are almost thirty minutes out.’

‘Why so late?’

‘Pile up on the I43, prison transfer van.’ She replies, flicking through the channels.

‘Ok. Let’s do it!’ Oliver seems excited until he turns to look at Roy. ‘Uh, you’re still on my team, right?’

Roy just looks at him.

‘Yes?’

‘Yeah, Oliver. For now at least.’

‘You don’t trust me?’

‘Not exactly. But let’s go if we’re going.’ He followed Oliver out to their bikes. ‘I’ll call Laurel, we’ll probably need the backup. That warehouse is huge.’

Oliver nodded silently and kicked his bike into life. They pulled off in a screaming of engines and burning of rubber.

 

Roy walked carefully along the gantry, high above the warehouse floor. He was hunched slightly over, having spotted the main group of villains gathered by a gated portion of the building. A quick communication to Oliver had them closing from all sides; Oliver would flank left while he grudgingly let Laurel take the right, Roy would be above them to provide cover fire. He was in position now, but he knew it’d take a few more minutes for the others to get to theirs. Pausing above the man giving directions, Roy leant back into the shadows, his bow held loosely in his hands, the reassuring weight of the sword by his side. He let his mind wander.

Was he really in with Merlyn? Was this some sort of rebellion? Or did he actually think that the Dark Archer was a better leader than Oliver? Maybe not, maybe “leader” wasn’t the right word. Merlyn never really told him what to do, there was a connection there, to be sure, but there was no orders, no out-ranking, no…Merlyn treated him as an equal because he saw him as an equal. Roy never felt that with Oliver. He was always one step lower, always looked over in favour of Diggle or Felicity, or now Laurel. And that should be making him angry, it should be making him feel something more than the neutrality that filled him. But then Roy stopped thinking about Oliver the man and started thinking about Oliver the Arrow. Because like he had said to Thea those short weeks ago, it was always the Arrow that interested him. And the Arrow is simple, so much simpler than Oliver Queen and his rapidly spiralling personal life. It had taken a while for Roy to realise it, but Oliver annoyed him, irritated him, made him upset and confused because the man could never live up to the dream Roy had constructed around the Arrow. Even now as he looked down at the dark green hood Roy felt his pulse quicken, because of the hood, because of the simple, raw power that it represented. And he felt a stirring in his tight pants the more he looked at the hero…

‘Roy? Roy, come in.’

‘It’s Arsenal when we’re in the field, Arrow. You should know that.’ There was a strange tone to his voice, as though he relished calling Oliver by his hero name.

‘Uh, right. So, we’re ready. Are-‘

There was a crash as a dozen boxes fell from Laurel’s side of the warehouse and Roy’s eyes darted over to see her surprised face. ‘Fuck!’ There was a stillness in the air for a minute before chaos erupted. Roy pulled back from the edge and notched an arrow to his bow as the Arrow ran towards Laurel’s position, the rattle of gunfire following him, boxes exploding their contents as bullets shredded them. Roy calmly held up his bow and began laying down covering fire. 

The first arrow took a gunman through the shoulder and he screamed as his gun clattered harmlessly from his hands. The second and third arrows struck their targets in the knees and they went sprawling as the Arrow rolled past them to where Laurel was backed into a corner, springing up to lay two goons out with fists of iron. But Roy didn’t get to see that as the muted leader re-directed his shooters to take him out. Roy rolled onto his back as the bullets hammered into the metal gantry, the impacts shuddering into the walkway, but not penetrating. He swore under his breath before flipping over onto his stomach, feeling disturbingly exposed as impacts continued to jolt his chest and crotch. He crawled silently away from the gunmen, stopping once he was clear, reaching for an arrow. His fingers found the strangely textured shaft of one of the special arrows. It was like sandpaper against his gloves and he pulled it out, looking up the silvery shaft to the rosebud head. He rises to one knee, time slowing down as he does so. Roy places it on the string and pulls back, the muscles in his arm working in perfect harmony as he brings the bow up to eye level. He sights down the arrow and targets the man in the center, the one who’s mouth is sown shut. He releases. The arrow spins as it flies through the air, the head twirling perfectly as it travels almost lazily to its destination. And then time reverts to its normality as the arrow impacts on the concrete floor, the leader having jumped out of its path. Roy ducks his head back as a wave of orange energy bursts out from the impact, the sound levels rushing up to deafening and the gantry shakes in the blast wave. After a few seconds the energy has dissipated, he glimpses over the edge of the metal and looks down on a scene of devastation.

The gunmen were gone, little piles of ash all that remained, the leader had been thrown back against one of the ICE trucks, his broken form echoing the sorry state of the vehicles. Oliver and Laurel came limping out of the maze of shelves to stand among the fallen. Roy stood up, noticing as he did the brilliant red rose imprinted on the ground beneath him, stretching out across the impact zone. 

‘Uh, I didn’t mean to.’

‘What the hell happened?’ the Arrow called out to him as Roy grappled his way down to them.

‘It was a special arrow, Onslaught gave it to me. He said I’d know when I needed it.’

‘Ah.’ Yes, Oliver remembered the strangely beautiful masterwork arrows he had seen in Roy’s house. ‘I was going to get you, Roy. Arsenal.’ He added at the younger man’s glare. Looked like someone had got serious about aliases. He held up a hand as Felicity whispered in his earpiece about the approaching cops. ‘Ok, we better go, let Lance clean this up.’  
Roy nodded and left quickly, feeling the Arrow’s gaze lingering on him, letting a smile slip onto his face as he jogged towards the rear exit. 

 

The morning after the night raid on the warehouse Roy found himself outside Thea’s apartment, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and the other nestling the two glasses in his pocket. It was more like midmorning, but he still got the stares of the other residents as he took the elevator up. The lingering judgement of one particularly sharply dressed business woman prompted him to growl menacing at her ‘It’s six p.m. somewhere!’ She sniffed at him and he got off at the next level, deciding the stairs was always the better option. But now he found himself lingering outside Thea and Oliver’s door, wondering if this really was such a good idea. He raised a hand and knocked twice on the wood surface, the raps sounding loud to his ears. There was a clink of chains being pulled back and the thud of the deadlock twisted back. The door opened and Roy found himself staring at a very tired, very shirtless Oliver.

‘Oh, ah, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he stammered as his eyes roved over Oliver’s scarred muscular form.

‘It’s fine.’ Oliver replied sleepily, pulling back the door to allow him in. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Ah, no, not really, no.’ Roy said as he edged past Oliver, glancing quickly back to get a better look at the man’s torso. He turned towards the windows, feeling his face heat. ‘I just…ah…’

Oliver cocked a brow, ‘Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?’ Roy didn’t reply so Oliver continued, ‘It’s early for me anyway. Thea isn’t here though.’

‘I called him.’ The voice came from the couch by the gently burning gas fire, the occupant unseen. Roy watched Oliver’s face twist through several emotions before settling on curious.

‘Why Merlyn?’

‘We have something…ah!’ He winced as he pulled himself into a sitting position and Roy came round to face him. ‘Roy, good. And you brought it too. Excellent. No trouble getting in?’

‘No, no, it was fine.’ The young archer assured him, ‘I thought you were trying to keep a low profile? The financial district isn’t what I’d call discreet.’

Merlyn laughed, or tried to, his smile disappearing into groans of pain. ‘Ha, maybe for someone young, but I put on a suit and I’m just another banker. Plus I needed somewhere to put my collection.’

‘Yeah, I saw it. Impressive stuff.’

‘Glad you like it. Feel free to take what you need, Arsenal.’

Roy paused, glancing up to see Oliver watching their conversation. The Arrow part of him seemed interested, but Oliver the man looked torn between fury and upset. Roy placed the bottle of whiskey on the nearby coffee table and went to walk back to Oliver but Merlyn grabbed his arm.

‘Wait.’ He turned to address Oliver. ‘If you don’t mind, there is something I must do, we must do, in private.’

Oliver tilted his head and turned away quickly to hide his grin, walking back towards his room. ‘Sure, uh, I’ll be in here.’

 

Roy turned to Merlyn, ‘What is it?’

‘A matter of grave importance. Ra’s has forgiven Thea’s blood debt, and my own, for that matter.’ He gestured for Roy to pour a measure into the two glasses he had placed on the table.

‘That’s good news, though?’ He asked as he licked the drops from his fingers. ‘They’re letting you go.’

‘Perhaps. But in my years of service to the League I have never seen or heard of Ra’s al Ghul granting mercy to his enemies. Something is wrong.’

‘Something?’

‘I have reason to believe that Oliver has been offered the dubious honour of being the next Ra’s al Ghul.’ Merlyn reached for the alcohol and Roy helped him down half the glass. ‘Oh, good stuff.’

‘So, he wants the Arrow to lead the League of Assassins?’ Roy asked, confused.

‘No. Ra’s is as much a title as it is a man.’

‘Why would Oliver agree? He’s not like them, he saves people, tries to at least.’

‘The League is an army as much as it is lone agents. I imagine that Ra’s sold him the position on the idea that the League would become what he wanted it to be; a force for good.’

‘But you don’t believe that,’ Roy said as he looked into his own glass. ‘You think Oliver will go to the dark side?’

‘Well, maybe not willingly, not initially, but being there, in Nanda Parbat, they just get to you. I believed that Starling City could only be saved by destroying the Glades, killing people in the tens of thousands as if that would somehow purify the rest of this city.’ Merlyn’s eyes were faraway and Roy hesitated a moment before placing his hand on Merlyn’s. 

‘I think you’ve paid that debt. You helped me take down Brick.’

‘Yes. I suppose so.’ Merlyn nodded at him and Roy removed his hand to pour another drink for the injured warrior. ‘Had I succeeded, we never would have met, never would have trained together, never would be having this conversation, never would be able to ask what I’m about to ask of you.’

Roy frowned at him. ‘What is it?’

Merlyn sighed, looking at his broken and stitched up hands, the aching pain in his legs and feet, the deep throbbing pain stretching all across his ribs. ‘I’m broken, Roy. I’m not going to walk for another month, my hands can barely hold this glass, much less my bow. I’m not sure I’m able to be the Dark Archer again…I'm not sure I want to.’ He looked at Roy’s concerned face. ‘So I need you to be.’

‘What?’

‘Take up my mantle, become the person you were always meant to be, neither hero nor villain. Be the guardian of Starling while Oliver plays at assassin, be the necessary evil that keeps the streets safe and the villains cowering. But grant protection to those who need it,’ He paused to take another drink, relishing the taste, ‘Take the best from both of us; The Arrow’s heroism, the Dark Archer’s pragmatism, and rise above us both!’ Merlyn slumped back into the couch, his energy spent. 

Roy had watched him throughout the speech, his face serious as he weighed the words. He couldn’t deny the attraction of it as an image stole into his head of a darkened figure standing on a rooftop in the midnight rains, against the Starling City sky, bow held in one hand, the barest hint that the fabric was red rather than green. But…would this path lead him to challenge the Arrow? Maybe, but if Oliver did become the next Ra’s and inherited that blood soaked legacy of the League, then perhaps a strong opponent was just what was needed.

‘I…’

‘You don’t have to answer me now. Think on it.’ Merlyn chuckled quietly to himself and Roy watched his eyes flutter sleepily. He reached over to take the glass from Merlyn’s hands. He stood up and nodded.

‘Yeah, I’ll think about it.’

 

Roy sat on his bed, tablet propped on his knees, still going through the Westen/Onslaught documents. There were hundreds more he hadn’t even looked at, it was the early missions he was interested in now. Roy never liked reading much, but there was something about these exploits that fascinated him. Maybe it was because he actually knew the man who had wrote them, remembered the way he spoke about his work, the way he took his job so seriously, now Roy understood the cold tone and steely expressions. But there was also something sad about the whole thing, it was better, of course, now that he knew Kyle was alive, but still the thought lingered that all of this could have passed him by if he hadn’t made that one decision in Verdant all those months ago. If he had been a coward and kept to the default state, took that easy girl for a meaningless kiss and broken it off with Thea, keeping her belief that they could still somehow be together…But no, he chose the strong, confident man that caught his attention so easily, awoke the fire in his stomach he had been keeping damped, repressing all those feelings, thinking he could shrug it off by being with Thea. He swiped a page and came face to face with the man himself. It was a candid shot, taken during counter-surveillance and Kyle was younger there, actually the youngest Roy had seen him, but the face was the same, the eyes harbouring determination in those cerulean blue orbs, so different from the star eyes he had now. Roy lingered over the photo, despite the difficulties of their relationship, despite the change from Kyle to Onslaught, Roy wished the metahuman was here, now. If nothing else so he could talk to him, bounce ideas off that muscular chest of his, figure out what was the best move: Oliver’s under-appreciated sidekick, or morally ambiguous Merlyn clone?

There was a knock at his door, or rather a rattle as though someone had picked up a handful of gravel and thrown it against the wood. He stood up slowly and called out, ‘Yeah. Who is it?’ 

No answer. Roy locks the tablet and walks towards the door, grabbing a dirk taped under the sideboard. He unlocks the door and pulls it open, blade ready to strike. But there’s no one there, just the wind pushing the tall trees across the street into one another. Roy glances down, a smile forming on his lips. There’s an arrow sitting there; silver shaft up to a flat silver head. Roy looks down at it and then up around the street. Empty, not even the glimpse of a gun metal grey figure slipping out of sight. He picks up the arrow, feels a slip of paper wrapped around it and pulls it free. The quality was fine, a pleasant texture to the paper as he turned it over. At first it seemed blank but then as he examined it closer there was the faintest outline of numbers and the words ‘Eternity’s Rest.’ Roy frowned at that, it sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. It didn’t make much sense to him regardless, but the arrow was another masterwork, perfectly crafted to look more like a work of art than a weapon of war. He sighed to himself and went back inside, the night air cool on his skin.

He kept looking at the phrase, wondering if it was some sort of code or message, but nothing came to mind. After a while, Roy pushed the note away and picked up the arrow again, rolling it around in his hands, it was strangely warm to the touch as though heated from within. Even the tip, a cruel collection of barbs and razors, was hot, not burning but enough for him to frown at it. It was all a mystery, Roy sighed and placed the arrow and note on the sideboard as he unlocked the tablet. 

Mission 2: Recovery of Priority Asset.

Status: Failure (Asset KIA).

Roy rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through the details, lingering on a map with the co-ordinates of the pickup neatly written across them. The location was remote, far away in the Canadian forests, near a lake. Roy frowned at the numbers then went back for the scrap of paper. He swore under his breath and looked towards the door. Should he? Tempted as he is to immediately get in his car and drive there, Roy is again disturbed by a knock on the door. He blinks in surprise and reaches for the dirk again. Opening the door however, it proves unnecessary. Roy drops it behind him as he looks at the man on his doorstep.

‘Oliver.’

‘Roy.’ He had a somewhat haunted look about him, but before Roy could speak, Oliver had pushed him back inside his own house and up against the nearest wall. ‘I want you!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be the last update for about 2-3 weeks. I've 3 more chapters planned for this part of the series which should bring us up to Roy's exit. Thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

‘I want you!’

‘Uh, Oliver-‘

‘Shut up!’ Oliver pushed Roy back further, his thumb pressing roughly against the younger man’s lips as he enforced the silence. There was a moment as Roy stared at the archer, brows raised in surprise before he half shrugged and reached down to pull Oliver closer to him, feeling the heat rise beneath him. Then the moment was gone and Oliver’s lips were pressed against his, a strange echo of his own first kiss with the man; full of passion and aggression and just the taste of nerves. Roy even held his eyes open for a second as Oliver leaned towards him, his own eyes squeezed shut.

Contact. 

It was different to how he had imagined it. Oliver was more forceful, more aggressive than he thought he would be. Lips crushed together hard enough that they’d feel tingly later. Roy opened his lips and allowed the questing tongue entry into his hot mouth, feeling it slide against his own, not sure if he wanted to pull back or pull Oliver closer. He went for the latter as Roy felt his cock chub up fully as he finally realised his dream coming true; Oliver, the Arrow was kissing him, and not some chaste peck on the lips, a full, deep, melding as his hands rested on Roy’s hips, pulling him closer and tighter to him, grinding against him in his hunger. And it was hunger, a deep unquenchable desire to have him. Roy let a moan erupt from his throat as Oliver pulled back from his mouth, and then to his surprise the archer started kissing his lips, tongue darting in and out of his mouth, as though he couldn’t get enough of Roy. As they continued to kiss each other, Roy could feel Oliver’s cock grind into him, rubbing against his thigh and he reached down to feel its throbbing heat, the length causing the younger man to mutter, ‘Fuck me!’ Oliver didn’t reply, barely acknowledging him as his eyes were still kept shut. But he did reach down and force Roy’s hand back into its position and the younger archer eagerly stroked up and down. Oliver was starting to breathe heavily and Roy looked up at him.

‘Oliver?’

‘Keep going.’

‘But-‘

Oliver kissed him again, hard, drawing forth additional moans from the man, feeling him buck against his hard body and trapped cock. But that didn’t seem to matter as Oliver grinded hard against his former sidekick. And then suddenly he felt it building inside of him, overflowing really, all the tension and pressure and the decisions and the urge to just have this with Roy, it all bubbled over and Oliver pressed hard against him, not even caring really if Roy was enjoying this, he just wanted it so fucking bad. He stopped kissing Roy and moved his mouth and lips and tongue down lower to the smooth soft skin of the younger man’s neck; kissing and licking and sucking on it as Roy began to moan almost in time with him, his free hand going inside his sweat pants to jerk himself off, as he realised Oliver was entirely too self-absorbed to care about his needs.

As soon as Oliver had started it was over. He slumped a little and reached down to adjust himself and push away Roy’s lingering hand. His breath felt hot against Roy’s skin and he couldn’t help but ask himself, ‘Was that it?’

Apparently so as Oliver turned to leave. Roy cleared his throat and the archer stopped.

‘Seriously? That was barely five minutes!’

There was a long pause as Oliver looked around the small house, anywhere but at Roy. ‘Yeah…’ he finally replied, ‘I don’t… I wasn’t sure…’

‘What to do?’ Roy shrugged, then smiled devilishly, ‘Why don’t you stay and find out?’

The second attempt was much better.

 

Roy rolled onto his back, not sure what had woken him. The sheet had been pulled back and his skin reacted to the cool air, he ran his hands across his smooth muscular chest and glanced to one side. The side where Oliver was meant to be. But the man wasn’t there. Roy frowned and reached over to feel the space. Still warm. So he hadn’t run off. Roy thought he might have. Oliver hadn’t been his usual confident self, but Roy actually found that more of a turn-on than he had expected. Being the one who knew what to do, how to do it, what was best, it felt good to the archer. But still there was that niggling doubt that plagued his mind; like why Oliver had left just now. 

Roy threw back the rest of the covers and grabbed his briefs from the discarded pile of clothes beside the bed. He walked towards the front room and paused when he saw Oliver’s silhouette sitting on the couch, his face and body in shadows thrown in from the street lamps. Roy moved closer to him and sat down beside his shirtless hero. He glanced at Oliver and bit back his questions, there was the familiar crease of worry etched into his brow and he was staring off into the distance, eyes boring a hole into the carpet. So instead of asking him what was wrong, Roy just slid closer to him and rested his hand gently on Oliver’s arm, their flesh pressed close together. Oliver blinked and glanced over at Roy, a brief smile flickering across his face. But then it was gone, replaced by the old look of concern. Roy let the silence rest between them and leant his head against Oliver’s shoulder. They stayed like that, comfortable in their peace.

When Roy woke again Oliver had gone, but the older man had moved him gently to lie out fully on the couch without waking him. Roy yawned and looked up to the clock.

‘Damn!’ He was running late, Thea had asked him to accompany her to John and Lyla’s wedding. Guess Oliver would be there earlier to be Diggle’s best man. The warrior rose quickly and made his way to the bedroom, pausing to see Oliver had taken his things and gone, making the bed as he did, all trace of his presence removed. It felt different now, not quite the idyllic relationship he had imagined for months, but it was, at least, a start. Roy found himself smiling at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and twisted the knob on the shower. 

 

Oliver stood behind Diggle and looked around the room, ill at ease with the whole situation. Although he was able to keep those emotions to himself, not wanting to ruin his best friend’s big day. But thoughts kept churning around in his head; thoughts about Ra’s offer, about his decision to reject it, about Roy. Yeah, Roy was taking up a lot of his thoughts. Maybe it was because he had met the League’s agent, rejected the offer and almost immediately gone to see Roy. Maybe he should have taken some time first, but then, Oliver thought, he probably would never have had the courage to do what he did last night. He glanced over to look at Roy now, sitting in the row with Thea by his side, friends again.

Oliver had to admit, Roy looked hot; fresh and handsome in his suit and loosely buttoned shirt. Roy caught his gaze and gave him a barely noticeable nod. Oliver pulled his gaze away, feeling an unfamiliar drop in his stomach. He frowned at the floor, feeling that same hit of guilt as last night about using his sister’s ex for relief. And it was relief, at least at first. The second time had been…well not better exactly, but more mutual really. Still Oliver didn’t like the fact that he had fumbled his way through it until Roy told him how to do it right, and showed him. And yeah, it was pleasurable, but Oliver hated being second best. First the sword training, and now this. But the problem was more than that, Oliver knew it too, the sex was nice, but there was nothing else. And that was the problem really because where he should have felt a connection deepen, Oliver just felt nothing. And that bothered him, thinking about it as Ray freaking Palmer oversaw Diggle’s wedding, that damn company stealing…

Roy saw Oliver looking at him and nodded back, feeling his face break into a grin. Oliver quickly averted his gaze and Roy chuckled softly to himself. Thea glanced at him and frowned, before looking at her brother.

‘No way.’ She whispered to him. Roy just grinned at her and shrugged. ‘You dog!’ She nudged him in the ribs and stared at Oliver.

‘It just sorta happened.’ He shrugged again, almost apologetic. 

‘Shuuush!’ Felicity glared at them and they stopped speaking, although when Roy glanced at her he noticed her cheeks had coloured slightly. He tried to stop his smile getting any bigger. 

The ceremony was nice and the reception equally so. The buzz of conversation died down as the happy couple took to the floor. Roy glanced at Oliver, but he wasn’t really expecting the older man to ask him to dance. Oliver just returned his nod from earlier and disappeared towards the bar. Thea asked him to dance and he nodded, guiding her onto the floor, holding steady near Lyla and Diggle. As they twirled and moved he felt an intense stare focused on him. Roy looked around and spotted a youngish man watching him. Roy frowned and the man quickly looked away, not before reaching into his pocket for his phone, quick fingers typing a message.

‘Uh, Lyla?’

‘Yes, Roy? Enjoying yourself?’

‘Yeah it’s great. I was just wondering who that guy was? He’s sitting…oh.’

She frowned for a moment before nodding, ‘Oh yes, Paul, Asset Manager from Domestic Ops. I worked with him a lot in Bialya. Is there a problem?’ 

‘Hmm. Does he, uh, know, um, our mutual friend?’ Roy asked casually as Diggle offered his hand to Thea and the two of them continued the dance even as Roy and Lyla moved to the side.

‘Agent Westen, you mean?’

‘Yeah. Him.’

She paused, thinking, ‘Yes, Westen was his direct superior here in Starling. Why? Have you heard from him?’

Roy looked at her. ‘ARGUS still wants him back, right?’

She nodded slightly. ‘He’s AWOL.’

‘No. Haven’t seen him. Probably dead for all I know.’ Roy shrugged casually and she frowned at his candour. 

‘So, Oliver didn’t leave him behind in Nanda Parbat?’

Roy went wooden faced. ‘Couldn’t say. I wasn’t there. If you’ll excuse me?’ He nodded at her and made a beeline for Oliver who had re-appeared with a drink in either hand, his eye catching Roy’s. He had made it half way across before he felt his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. As he pulled it out, the sounds of beeping phones could be heard around the room. Roy glanced down at the story; ‘Arrow returns to murder!’

‘Oliver?’

 

Oliver glared at the silent news broadcast as the others watched him wordlessly. Both Felicity and Diggle were waiting for him to speak, to deny what was clearly a frame-job. But it was the cool stare from Roy that got to him the most. Once the younger man figured out that there had been enough time between Oliver appearing on his doorstep and the murders, he had become wary. Oliver flicked off the screen and turned to face his team.

‘Ok.’

‘What’s going on, Oliver?’ Felicity asked immediately. ‘They’re lies, right?’

‘Of course. Ahhh,’ Oliver sighed, rubbing a hand through his short hair. ‘Look, um, there’s something I didn’t tell you about. The reason Ra’s let us all, well most of us, go.’ He glanced at Roy and saw him nod in acknowledgement. ‘Ra’s made me an offer. To become him. To…take up his position as the Demon’s Head.’

Lyla’s brows shot up as Diggle and Felicity exclaimed in shock. Roy frowned for a second before looking at Oliver. ‘How long have you kept this from us?’

‘It wasn’t like that. I just needed time to think.’

‘What’s to think about?’ Felicity shot back at him, ‘It’s the League, Oliver! They tried to kill you, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill everyone in this city to get to one man!’

‘Yeah, I know, I know. But…I don’t know, maybe they could become a force for good.’ Oliver shrugged, ‘Besides, I told them no. Last night in fact. I guess they don’t take rejection well.’

‘You think?’

‘Roy, can you go out and take a sweep around. See if there’s any big criminal events tonight, that’s where they’ll hit. Felicity, see if you can get any footage of the imposter.’ They nodded and Oliver watched Roy leave. 

‘What about me, Oliver?’

‘No, Dig. You and Lyla have a honeymoon to take.’

 

Roy trotted down the stairs into the near empty Arrowcave and halted in his tracks as a half-naked Oliver stopped his sword training mid-swing. He swallowed and walked slowly into the room, clearing his throat as he did.

‘Hey Oliver, Felicity.’

‘Well?’ Oliver mopped the sweat from his torso as Roy’s eyes lingered on his muscular body.

‘Uh, yeah, there’s um a big drug shipment coming in to Dock 32. Cartel’s gonna be there, no one big, but other than that it’s pretty quiet.’

‘Great. Felicity pull up the nearest cameras.’ Oliver dropped the towel and walked back to his armour case. Roy made to move to his but Oliver stopped him. ‘Roy this is the League, I’ve got it.’ He doesn’t say it, but Roy can see it on his face, ‘I don’t want you to get hurt.’ 

Roy growls after Oliver is out of hearing range, ‘Fuck that, I’m a better warrior than you.’ He reaches for his Arsenal armour, then pauses as he sees Felicity stare at him. ‘Huh, I  
guess he has a point. I’ll be on the streets if you need me, looking out for anything else.’

‘Ok.’

Roy climbed the stairs and slipped out of the club, reaching for his phone as he did so, dialling the familiar number. ‘Hey, it’s me. Is that storage locker you told me about still active?’

‘The one in the Glades?’ Merlyn coughed his question.

‘Yeah. I’m outside Verdant. I need it.’

‘So you’ve decided?’

Roy grunted non-committedly, ‘Not exactly. Let’s just say I want to try it out. And I need to be anonymous.’

‘Even to Oliver?’

‘Especially to Oliver. The Arrow doesn’t want his supposed sidekick with him.’

Merlyn laughed before erupting into more coughing, ‘Agh, I thought I told you Roy, you’re already the hero!’

‘Huh. I’ll be in touch.’ He hung up and walked the short distance to Merlyn’s drop site; a featureless steel door set into the side of a warehouse. He quickly keyed in the code and the burnished metal portal opened, lights flickering on as he stepped inside the small box room, the walls covered in weapons and vials of liquids. The entire back wall was dedicated to two inbuilt mannequins, one a recent addition; the League’s traditional black cloth armour hanging in place, although modified. Roy walked slowly to it, glancing around until he spotted his second bow, the one Merlyn had got him to practice more precision aiming and shooting with. He unzipped his jacket and pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping the clothes into a cloth bag beside the mannequin. He reached for the armour, pulling it over his head, feeling it slide into place; perfectly fitting. It had been adopted for him, as if Merlyn expected him to wear his Arsenal armour within, but even without it, the layers of cloth and toughened leather fit his body snugly. Merlyn obviously had planned this move for some time, maybe all the time. Roy finished tying his sword belt in place, the blade a now familiar addition at his side. His bow fitted nicely against his back and he rested one gloved hand on the pommel of the sword as he admired his appearance in the nearby mirror. There was certainly something different about being in black and as Roy pulled the hood and mask into place, he felt a strange sense of power fill him. Oliver might think he knows the League well enough to take them down without aid, but Roy wasn’t going to let him go in alone.

 

Roy arrives to find four Arrows fighting and he stops in surprise, crouching low on the gantry above them. But he watches them for a minute until he recognises which one is Oliver; it was pretty obvious, they were all attacking him. Reaching for an arrow Roy aimed carefully and releases, the shot plunging into the back of one of the false Arrows. Oliver glances up at the sudden noise as he lays another of them out flat, his back turned to the last one. Roy sees the false Arrow reach for a dagger and moves without thinking, unsheathing his own blade and jumping down from the gantry, catching the surprised attacker a deep slash across the chest. He delivers a rapid punch to the temple that knocks the imposter out cold. The real Arrow watches him warily, before lowering his bow.

‘Aren’t you a little short for an Assassin?’

Roy didn’t reply, just stared at Oliver before firing a grapple back up onto the gantry and disappearing into the night.

‘Huh. Not Merlyn, or Nysaa, hmm.’ Oliver muttered to himself as he watched the silent figure drop and roll with ease, before disappearing into the shadows of two containers. ‘Could it…No, why would he?’ He glanced around him, thinking he could just hear a humming noise from outside.

 

Roy pulled back the flap of cloth held in place on his wrist, dialling Merlyn’s number as his ear piece crackled. ‘Yeah, it’s me.’

‘Well?’

‘Saved the Arrow’s ass, as usual!’ Roy grinned under the hood and he heard Merlyn laugh between coughs. ‘As for your offer, let’s just say I’m strongly considering it. I mean if he’s going to be tied up fighting the League or if he does the unthinkable and actually join them-‘ 

‘So the offer was made?’

‘Yeah, but Oliver refused, so…’

‘They’ll start killing until he gives in, it’s what they do.’

‘Great. We need to take them out.’

‘I’m not sure-‘

‘Why not? Am I not ready?’

Merlyn was silent for a moment, ‘How long do you think Oliver will let them keep killing? Soon they’ll stop targeting criminals and start killing randomly.’

‘I…’

‘I’m just saying, Roy, you might need to-‘ Roy ended the call and muttered darkly under his breath.

 

Oliver held the two arrows up and stared at them, glancing to one side as Roy came to stand beside him. ‘Look at these.’

‘They’re both ours, right?’

‘No. The one on the left is the imposter’s. The one of the right is ours.’

‘So?’ Roy frowned as Oliver grunted.

‘They’re identical.’ He sighed, ‘But that’s not the worst part. I was “helped” tonight. Someone in League colours.’

‘Traitor maybe? I mean, you said that your old friend helped you out before.’

‘No. This was different.’ Oliver glanced over as Felicity went into a typing frenzy, ‘But I guess it can wait. What’s going on Felicity?’

‘Police report of a violent disturbance at Rabbitfield Power Plant.’ She sounded nervous, ‘Also…Ray has a supersuit and he knows you’re the Arrow and he thinks you’re a menace and he wants to capture you!’ She said in a rush as Oliver went from surprised to furious.

‘What?!’

‘Supersuit? Awesome!’ Roy said as the other two turned to glare at him, ‘What? It is.’

‘Thanks Roy.’ Oliver replied through gritted teeth, ‘Felicity, when were you going to tell me about this?’

‘Well, um, later, it’s just, in case.’ She turned quickly away from them and continued typing, her face colouring as Oliver’s glare burned a hole through her. Roy quickly pulled his gear on and then cursed under his breath.

‘Fuck it. I left something I need at home. I’ll meet you there Oliver.’

‘Yeah, great, fine, whatever.’ The man dismissed him with a mutter and Roy walked back up through the club towards Merlyn’s drop site, eager to try the modified armour over his own.

 

Oliver was starting to worry. No matter how often he called or got Felicity to call, there was no answer from Roy. And it seemed there was nothing at the power plant either. Just as he was about to give up and head to Roy’s house a silent black armoured figure emerged from the shadows of a cooling tower. Oliver stared at the newcomer, recognising the same fighter who aided him on the docks. They were dressed in League blacks as before, but this time he sees more detail, the difference in the way the sword is worn, the way the figure walks towards him, and of course the bow. Oliver frowns at the figure, ‘How’d you get his bow?’

There’s a moment of pause and then a voice modulator kicks in, ‘There’s no one here, no gangs, no imposters. I’ve checked it out.’ There was a pause as the hood moved around, lifting his hand to gesture with the bow. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt Roy to get this.’

‘Wha-‘ Oliver was interrupted by the appearance of the ATOM. They looked up to find him hovering above them, his robotised voice all too chipper and excited. Oliver could have sworn the hooded figure was watching the ATOM cynically, but he raised his own bow to firing position. ‘I am not killing people! There’s an imposter!’

‘Right! Sure there is!’ The Supersuit replied, ‘Now why don’t you both drop your weapons and…’ Oliver leaped into action and fired a shot, watching it glance off the ATOM’s armour plating. Palmer grinned and dive bombed Oliver, catching him a blow across the shoulder. The figure in black didn’t move until the last moment, rolling out of the way behind a forklift. 

There was a crackle of lightning as the ATOM fired its primary weapon. Roy watched in horror as Oliver was hit square on the chest, sending him flying into the nearby chain link fence. Roy watched him groan and clutch his chest, unable to move much beyond that. The ATOM came in to land and walked over to where Roy was still in cover.

‘Come on out!’

He looked over the seat of the vehicle and gripped his sword firmly. As the ATOM glanced around at Oliver, Roy chose his moment to strike, jumping up viper-like and moving through the open cab until he was right in front of Palmer. He had spotted the power module when the ATOM had dive bombed him. Roy struck out with his sword even as the man attempted to react. The blade slid through the module with ease and a ripple of energy rolled across the ATOM’s suit, immediately shutting down and darkening. Roy watched as Ray powers down and just lurched over.

Roy walked over to the fence and pulled up an unsteady Oliver, watching as he walked over to the ATOM, not hearing the words, not caring to. They were the same words he had said to Laurel not too long ago. Roy watched as Oliver finished with him and Palmer reached down to swap out the power module. The Supersuit groaned into life and lights flickered sporadically across the armour. He straightened up and limped slowly away. 

Oliver looked around after Ray has gone, to find the mystery figure waiting for him. The warrior looked at him before nodding in a way that was strangely familiar and then walked past him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last few chapters will be based loosely on the series, I'm not a fan of how they've written it, with Roy's departure being an obvious problem. But I'm back to regular up-dating, so two more chapters left!


	29. Chapter 29

Roy planted a row of kisses across Oliver’s shoulders, moving down the warm skin of his back and stopping at the base of his spine. He pressed his own body against that of Oliver’s and ground back and forth as the older man groaned in response. It was not quite the same as last time, Oliver was a little more muted, Roy a little more insistent, guiding the archer less as Oliver learned to rely on what felt good, rather than what seemed right. He wasn’t used to letting his partner guide the night though, but it seemed Roy knew what he was doing, distracting him enough not to think about the stranger in League blacks.

Roy’s hands on his ass were warm and Oliver moaned as he applied the right amount of pressure, stretching his cheeks apart, causing him to buck slightly, never before had he felt quite like this. Roy grinned down at him and grinded his cock against the muscular twin mounds before leaning down to kiss Oliver’s neck and run his free hand up and down the muscled arms of his hero. Oliver jerked again in surprise as he felt one of Roy’s fingers run around the entrance to his hole, the finger gentle yet enticing, he drew a quick breath that was released in a rush when the digit suddenly pushed against his tightness. Roy flexed a little at the opening, his moment’s pause before to lube up his fingers making it all the easier to push into Oliver. He wanted to make this night last and was determined to get Oliver off at least once before he let himself be fucked by the archer. Because that had been good, rough and Oliver unsure, but fuck had it felt good!

Oliver couldn’t stop moving now, grinding his own drooling cock into the bed as Roy continues to finger him, the sensation beyond anything he had ever felt before, in a place he would never have thought to go before. Soon it was uncontrollable and he was fucking the bed clothes, Roy constantly changing the way his fingers, two now, entered and flexed inside the tightness of his ass. He glanced back to see Roy grinning at him, using his free hand to jerk himself off as he straddled Oliver’s thighs. And then he shot, as unexpected as the first time, as glorious a release that had been. His breath was hard to catch and after a few seconds he heard Roy moan and groan and shudder as his own orgasm ripped through his smaller body, his cum spurting in arcs from his cock, splattering onto Oliver’s scarred back and all around him. Afterwards, Roy let out a great gasp and collapsed onto Oliver, his cock, still hard and sensitive, pressed up against his now liberated ass. 

Oliver let him lie there a moment before rolling over and taking Roy with him, feeling the younger man laugh as he was pinned under the muscular frame of the Arrow.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ Roy grinned at him, before reaching up to kiss him on the lips, ‘I’m just happy, that’s all.’

‘Good.’ Oliver glanced down at their cocks rising once again. ‘Well, looks like we’re both happy!’ He leant into Roy and continued to kiss him.

 

Roy wiped the steam from the glass and looked sat his reflection as Oliver stepped out of the shower, the older man walking over to him and resting his hands on his bare shoulders. He was about to speak when his phone rang out, then Oliver’s started beeping. They looked at each other’s reflection in the mirror and Oliver let his hands fall away as Roy moved to answer his. Oliver watched him before walking over to his trousers, towel wrapped around his waist and reached in for his phone. Just a message. He glanced at Roy who was speaking quietly, back turned away, obviously trying to conceal his words. Oliver frowned a little then stared at the message.

‘Mayor dead, two officials, Ray hurt bad. In hospital, fake Arrow responsible. Diggle on way to Arrowcave.’

‘Fuck!’ Oliver swore loudly as Roy finished his call. ‘You hear?’

‘Yeah, uh, Merlyn just called. The police are launching a manhunt for you, well, for the false Arrow. Guess dinner will have to wait.’ Roy sighs then, as he’s finishing drying his chest and Oliver glances at him. In that moment Oliver blinks and realises who the stranger in League colours is. He swallows, no, surely not? But…it fits; the height, the skill, the willingness to save his life, who else would it be?

Roy gestures for Oliver to hurry up before tossing him the keys. ‘Lock up will you? I’ll meet you at the club.’

Oliver nods dumbly and stares at the keys he holds in his palm. Why would Arsenal need to hide? Unless, of course, he was no longer goodguy Arsenal…

 

Diggle inclines his head at Oliver while Laurel drops her bags on a nearby bench. Oliver rubs a hand through his short hair as he watches the muted news cast again. It seems that the fake Arrows were no longer content to killing criminals. These latest deaths made sure a target had been painted firmly on his back, with the entire police department mobilised to catch him, and the League repeating its ‘offer’. It would seem that Roy would have to wait, again.

Roy watched as Oliver paced before his phone once again vibrated, silenced now. He fished it out as Oliver spoke to Diggle. Roy looked at the message, even as the archer stared at him.

‘Roy?’

‘Sorry, Oliver. I have to, uh, I gotta go.’

‘But-‘ Oliver’s objection falls of deaf ears as Roy grabs his bags and runs back up the stairs. 

 

The streets were clear and he made good time across the city, grabbing his new armour from the other bag as he climbed the stairs, pulling it on over his street clothes, finding it to fit easier than he expected. It was designed more to hide from the shadows than his own armour which let him move with ease and take risks. This was all whirling cloth and stealthy movements. Useful, though, it certainly got the League close enough to strike. He carried the face mask under one gloved hand, the hood pulled slightly up, just enough to cover his ears as he walked onto the gravel roof, the lights of the city burning all around him. He walked over to where another figure in black stood watching the cityscape.

‘You called?’

‘Yes. There is much we must discuss.’ Merlyn turned to him as Roy approached, his face twisted slightly in pain. He reached out and Roy let him grasp his arm for support. ‘Thank you. I am much better, but still, no match for Oliver Queen.’

‘You think he’ll take the deal?’

‘Yes. He doesn’t want people to die, and more innocents surely will if he does not.’

Roy smiled a little, a grim smile. ‘I thought you said there were no innocent people?’

‘Hah, true enough.’ Merlyn nodded as he thoughtfully regarded Roy. ‘So you have decided?’

He sighed, ‘Yeah. I would never have been the…protector, I guess, of this city if I sit in the Arrow’s shadow. Never be able to rise above the stains that Arsenal left behind.’

‘But, this,’ Merlyn gestured to him with his free hand, ‘This, is something else? Something new perhaps?’

Roy nodded. ‘I won’t let Oliver fail this city. I won’t let him take Ra’s offer.’

Merlyn hid his smile and turned away, ‘Yes. He is not truly worthy. But first, we must deal with Captain Lance.’

‘Deal with him?’

‘Oliver will chase these false Arrows all over the city and leave a staggering body count behind them; I’ve seen it before. We must remove the police manhunt, or at least re-direct it. Kill Lance and then we, you, will have some time to, uh, convince Oliver. Agreed?’

Roy thought for a moment before nodding, ‘Yes. My dark master.’ The final words added as a whisper which turned Merlyn’s blank face into a faint mirthless grin.

‘Easy there Anakin!’

It was Roy’s turn to grin as he guided Merlyn back towards the stairs.

 

Roy turned away from the door, Merlyn closing it behind him as Thea walked out of the elevator. She stared at him and he looked down.

‘Oh, uh, just training.’

‘Uh, great, um, have you seen what’s happening on the news?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I reckon we’ll all have to fight soon enough. But um, it’ll be ok.’

‘You sure?’

‘Things are just intense right now. And everything’s got real complicated.’

‘With Oliver and you?’ Thea let herself into the apartment and gestured for Roy to follow her. Merlyn had fallen asleep on the couch. ‘Your, um, relationship?’

‘Yeah.’ Roy nods to himself, ‘Yeah. It’s just, everything’s...well you know Oliver. But yeah, complicated…’

‘Ra’s al Ghul complicated?’

‘Uh…that’s part of it.’

‘But?’

‘There’s other stuff going on, behind the scenes with your brother and I.’ He’s about to say more when he catches sight of the TV silenced in the background; the reporter speaking beside a graphic of the Arrow, the words ‘City-wide Manhunt!’ splashed beneath him. He looks to Thea and she rises the volume up. 

‘…Captain Lance has issued an update on the developing situation in City Hall this evening, where the vigilante known as the Arrow apparently assassinated the mayor and wounded three others, including prominent businessman, Ray Palmer. Capt. Lance has announced that arrest warrants have been issued for the Arrow and his accomplices. These individuals are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous, one of whom is wanted in connection to several unsolved murders last year.’

Thea muted it again and looked at Roy. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I…’ His words faltered, remembering a dark, dark night when it seemed nothing mattered anymore, when it had been so easy to bring his bow up and shoot down those who were evil. He hadn’t thought about those teenagers for a long time, lost in his rage and sorrow. But now it came rushing back up and he choked on the rising bile.

‘Roy?’

‘I’m…it’s nothing.’ He managed to gasp out as Thea gazed at him in concern. ‘I just, I better get back to Oliver.’

But he doesn’t go back to the club, instead arriving just as Oliver was leaving. He hesitated for only a moment before reaching back for his black cloth, donning the armour with welcome ease after the tightness of the Arsenal armour. He wasn’t sure what, or even if, he needed another name to call himself. Maybe Arsenal simply needed to be reborn. 

He exited the car and jumped up onto a gantry, climbing until he was above Oliver, watching his progress carefully down the street towards the disused sheds along the river’s edge. He stayed in the shadows, out of Oliver’s direct line of sight whenever he could. Oliver stopped beside a rusting shipping crate and Roy frowned in confusion until Nyssa emerged from the shadows. He felt his chest grow a little tight; the first time he had seen her since Merlyn had been freed from the dungeons of Nanda Parbat. Roy let his fists clench as one hand gripped the hilt of his sword and the other pulled out his bow carefully. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he knew this couldn’t be good. He crept a little closer as they began to speak; close enough to hear everything, but far enough that they don’t notice him, even if Nyssa did pause before she leaves with Oliver back towards the Arrowcave.

Roy listens as Oliver wields Sarah like a weapon and he hisses under his breath. ‘That was cold.’ He thinks as he watches them part ways, Oliver heading inside while she breaks away towards the city. Roy fingers the hilt of his sword watching her leave, remembering that she was the root of his current dilemma. But he does nothing. 

 

After swapping out his blacks for the red armour, Roy returns to the club and finds himself under Oliver’s curious gaze. He walks over to the man. ‘Hey, Oliver, um sorry about earlier.’

‘Yeah,’ Oliver glared at him before continuing, ‘You blow me off to go train with Merlyn?’

‘I…what?’

‘Thea called. Upset. She said that you and Merlyn were training. We’re kinda in the middle of a crisis, Roy!’

‘Sorry, Oliver. But we’re not, we’re not exactly on the same team here.’ Roy stood his ground as Oliver glared at him. ‘It’s the truth. I’m with Merlyn, but right now we’re stumbling from one crisis to the next. So once it’s all settled down, we’ll work apart.’

Oliver’s expression soured. ‘Fine.’

‘But hey, isn’t it better for us?’ Roy asked as he rand his hand down Oliver’s arm, until the older man stepped back, glancing around in case the others had noticed the intimate gesture. But Diggle and Laurel were watching the news. 

‘Maybe.’ Oliver sighed and then nodded at the others, raising his voice, ‘Ok guys. Nyssa…oh.’ He stopped talking as she silently entered the room, glancing around at them.

‘I told you I would help you, find them at least.’ Oliver nodded his thanks at her while Roy moved over to check his gear alongside Diggle and Laurel. The air was charged as Roy watched Nyssa, Oliver watched Roy and Nyssa watched everyone. The atmosphere feels like it could turn on the head of a pin, and the three big players kept their hands close to their weapons; Roy seemingly unaware of his fingers tapping a beat on the pommel of his sword. Oliver looked at him now and then, wondering how he managed to get dressed so quickly, or did he have the Arsenal suit on underneath the League blacks? He especially noticed how the younger man’s hand kept curling and releasing the hilt of his sword and the way Nyssa watched him do so. 

She shared the info gleaned from her contacts as they look at a 3D model of the building. Oliver tells them to split up and Nyssa and Roy eye each other warily.

‘Is she coming?’

‘Hardly. You have what you wanted, I will not take up arms against my father’s army.’ He watched her sweep from the room and followed Oliver’s gesture to leave in the opposite direction.

 

There was nothing in the building; quiet on every floor until Diggle on overwatch spots a group dressed in black gathered on the rooftop with their target following them on. Oliver points at them and Roy nods, gripping his bow and firing the arrows as he advances across the parking lot roof. He spots Laurel out of the corner of his eye rush ahead to engage the League members with her staff, Oliver standing defiantly, his bow ready to fire. Roy flicks his eyes forward as he fires his first arrow, watching it thud into the chest of a sword wielding assassin. He switches to the sword as he closes range, catching the first warrior off-guard as he swung up to counter the downward thrust. He fights with skill and speed, easily defeating the first two to come at him; the final one being a little more wary. But Roy dodges his attacks and sweeps under his guard, cutting the man’s legs with a vicious stroke. He toppled over and Roy kicked him onto his back about to deliver the killing blow when Oliver called out to them, ‘Stop!’ Roy glanced around to see Oliver holding their target at arrowpoint and Roy reluctantly stepped back, keeping his sword on the injured man.

Before Oliver could begin his interrogation, Ra’s al Ghul emerged from the shadows; directing a fraction of his gaze at Roy before settling on Oliver, a pleased smile on his face. ‘Well done. If anything, this more than proves you are fit to be my heir.’

‘I will never be you!’ Oliver growls back.

‘Oh I think so,’ Ra’s smile grew wider, ‘After all, where will you go once your city has turned its back on you and all your friends get taken?’

‘Taken? By you?’

‘Hardly.’ He gestured upwards as a police helicopter roared into view. ‘I’m sure I’ll hear from you soon Oliver.’ He walked away into the shadows as police cars roared onto the roof, SWAT teams running forward, guns held high. The cops in the chopper screamed orders down on them as Roy looked at Oliver.

‘We gotta go!’

Oliver nods furiously and points towards the side of the building, jumping off and grappling to safety. They run then, fast and unrelenting as the police chase them around the block, sealing them off until Oliver decides he’ll act as bait so they can leave. 

Roy swears at him but follows Laurel as they run again. They split up further as they enter a laundry, Roy dropping two cops as they turn corners, his carefully timed shots hitting hard enough to bowl them back but not to kill. Not that they have the same curtsey; shooting at him, forcing him to duck and run as bullets ping into the metal boilers around him. He almost gets cornered by a large group but uses a flashbang to cover his escape. The coms are jammed and only occasionally can he hear Oliver or Laurel speaking. There seemed to be no end to them, every street, every corner, every building.

 

Oliver paces the floor of the Arrowcave, occasionally glancing at Thea and Laurel, even as Diggle kept an ear on the police scanner. Laurel made to speak but Thea shook her head. They all turned to look as Roy walked down the stairs, exhausted, the sweat dropping from him as he tried to bring his breathing back under control.

‘Finally!’

‘Phew!’

He looked around at them and collapsed into a chair, gulping down the water Thea offered him. 

‘How did you escape? There were cops everywhere!’ A relieved Laurel asked.

‘Huh, huh, ah, had a few tricks…kept to the shadows.’ Roy replied between mouthfuls of water. 

Oliver frowned, ‘Merlyn?’

Roy avoided his question and Oliver looked torn between wanting to hold him and berate him. He settled on a rough pat on the shoulder; Roy looked at him strangely as Thea rolled her eyes. He felt a vibration and reached down for his phone, moving the chair away from the others.

‘Heard you’re in some trouble. You need a shield? O.’

He frowned and quickly typed back a negative as Oliver told Thea the real reason the world was going to hell. Roy turned away from them and called Merlyn speaking quietly as he explained what had happened. The older man listened before replying.

‘Meet me. And bring those special arrows of yours.’

‘I’m on my way.’

Roy looked at Oliver for a moment before nodding his head. This, this was necessary.

Oliver hugged Thea and looked around for Roy, finding him nowhere.

 

Merlyn and Roy stood together watching the latest press conference as Lance issued the arrest warrant and executed a search warrant on the club.

‘And breaking news now, it seems the Arrow has been spotted near the night club Verdant in the Glades, where he injured three officers in his attempted escape. Capt. Lance is reportedly in pursuit!’ 

Roy flicks the TV to mute as Merlyn pulls on the last of his armour. There are scenes of a hooded figure disappearing into the industrial maze near the club. They turn to look at each other and Merlyn nods once.

‘It’s time.’

Roy sighed, ‘He won’t thank us for this you know.’

‘I know. But we still have to do it.’ Merlyn pulls on his mask and the two of them leave, both dressed in black. 

 

It wasn’t difficult to track Lance, he became lost quickly in the rusting jungle as Oliver moved deeper into the area, farther away from the incensed police officer. Roy pulled out his sword as Merlyn gestured at him in the darkness. Roy stepped out of the shadows as Lance leaned over a railing.

‘I do what I must for the man I love!’ Roy mutters as he raised his sword. Lance glanced up as instinct told him to move. Roy’s attack glanced harmlessly off the metal and Lance rolled up and into firing position, as Merlyn emerged from the shadows and stiffly pulled back his bow. He released as the officer fired.

Roy grunted as the bullet hammered into his chest, winding him and bruising his ribs. But as he staggered and pawed at the hole in the cloth, there was no blood, just the flattened head of the bullet impacted into his Arsenal armour. There was a scream as Merlyn’s arrow pierced Lance’s shoulder. There was a gruff laugh as the Dark Archer called out to Roy; ‘Ha! Must be off my game; you finish him.’

Roy nodded solemnly and walked closer to the wounded man. He hovered over him, sword pointed down. ‘I’m sorry.’ He muttered, ‘But I have to.’

Merlyn watched as the blade was raised, the sudden figure in the shadows unnoticed. There was a twang of a bowstring and Roy found the sword knocked from his hands as he was blinded. The explosive bolt pushed him back, but did little more than singe the black cloth.

‘Leave him alone!’ The Arrow shouted at them as he advanced. Roy glanced at him as Merlyn reached for an arrow. He wasn’t quick enough as Oliver released the shot already strung up. The arrow flew through the air and buried itself in Merlyn’s stomach.

‘Argh!’ He tumbled to the ground and Roy was by his side in seconds, pulling off his mask as he looked back at a stunned Oliver. His expression reverted back to its serious state as Lance began to move away from them, his useless arm dragging as he tried to stop the blood from his earlier injury. 

Oliver’s mind churned in a mix of fury and regret as he stared at Roy who had stood back up, pulling his sword from the ground. He stood there, between Oliver and Merlyn, bow in one hand, sword in the other. Oliver gestured at him to move but Roy shook his head once.

‘I had to.’

‘Why?’

‘Cut off the head and the body dies.’

‘Did he teach you that?’ Oliver snarled at him as he glared at Merlyn. ‘Stand aside! Leaving him alive was the worst mistake I ever made.’

Roy looked at him and repeated his shake of the head. ‘No.’

Oliver inhaled a furious breath and reached back for an arrow, pulling it taut on the string. It was time, time to finish this once and for all, no matter the cost, even if it means going through Roy. His Roy


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Character death ahead!

Roy glared at the Arrow. ‘Don’t make me do this, Oliver! I don’t want to fight you.’

‘Then stand aside.’ Oliver snarled back at him.

‘You know I can’t do that.’

The pause stretched for several moments, Roy watching Oliver’s eyes flick between him and the man he was protecting. Then the archer’s mouth turned into a grim line, his voice hard, although tinged with a note of regret. ‘Then you leave me no choice.’ 

He released the string and Roy watched the arrow fly straight towards him, diving to the ground as it came closer. He gritted his teeth and ducked Oliver’s first swing, the archer having closed the distance quickly. Roy sprung back up and lashed out with his fist curled around his bow, catching Oliver a glancing blow. The Arrow returned the favour and Roy gasped as the solid punch connected with his face, his lip busting. That wasn’t a training punch. He spat out the blood and glared into his former ally’s cold eyes. Just as Oliver swung out again, Roy pulled back and reached for an arrow, thrusting his sword into its sheath as he did so. 

Oliver circled him warily, looking at the heavy silver spiked head; it was one of the special arrows. Roy paused for a fraction of a second, almost as if to ask Oliver to stop, but the Arrow didn’t hesitate in bringing his own bow back up. Roy pressed the button hidden on the shaft and released the arrow, flinging himself to the ground as Oliver’s own zinged overhead. There was a soft explosion and then the air was filled with sharp whistling sounds as silver shards spiralled outwards from the detonation. Roy buried his face in the dusty ground as Oliver let out a cry of pain. When the shrapnel had stopped falling, Roy looked up to see Oliver down on one knee, face twisted in pain. Roy got to his feet, seeing the trails of blood running down Oliver’s jacket, the silver shards embedded in the green armour. Roy thought Oliver might finally stop, but no, the archer wasn’t done yet.

The Arrow stood up, a little cautiously as Roy circled him, moving so his back was to Merlyn again. A quick glance back told him the Dark Archer was alive, if bleeding. Roy turned round in time to see Oliver’s fist coming straight at him. There was a sickening crunch as the man’s knuckles hammered into Roy’s nose. 

‘Gah!’

Then a swift left hook battered his unguarded face, a cut opening above his eyes. Roy turned away, blinded by blood as Oliver moved doggedly towards him, a swift punch here, an uppercut there; hard impacts against his cheeks, repeated pummelling against his chest until Roy was bent double, breaths coming in gasps as blood ran freely from a dozen cuts. Oliver delivered a brutal hit with his knee that left Roy sprawling on the ground, his nose a blaze of agony, coughing blood. 

He watched Oliver stand over him, chest heaving, ignoring the injuries Roy had inflicted, gloved hands covered in blood, his bow to one side. Was this it? Would the Arrow kill him?  
For a moment the way Oliver was staring at him, Roy thought he might. The younger man shifted his gaze quickly to Merlyn, Oliver following it, giving Roy enough time to reach into a fold of his black armour. He snapped his wrist and the small black bag smashed into the ground erupting in a blinding white light. Oliver was suddenly dazed and stumbled backwards, his muttered curses falling on deaf ears as Roy crawled over to Merlyn’s barely breathing body.

‘We must…We gotta,’ Roy struggled to speak through his bruised and bleeding lips. ‘Merlyn! Come on…Malcolm, please…’

Merlyn struggled to raise a hand and Roy looked back to see Oliver standing nearby bow raised, arrow ready to fire. Roy climbed to his knees and reached out a hand. ‘Oliver-‘

Twang! The arrow seemed to release itself as even Oliver looked surprised. Roy grunted as he felt the hit; the arrow tearing through the armour and leather until it buried itself in the flesh and bone of his shoulder. But then Roy screamed in pain and felt his bow fall from his hands, strength leached away. He fell on his side as Oliver stood there, lips parted, gazing at him. Roy hit the ground hard, blood dripping from where his other hand gripped the shaft, not feeling the impact.

Oliver seemed to recover himself and walked over to where Roy and Merlyn now lay, side by side, bleeding into the dust. He raised his bow once more, the arrow sliding onto the string as though it was automatic, robotic even; his hands moving of their own accord as he stretched the string back. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just saw the man’s bleeding face down the length of the arrow. 

Release. Almost.

Oliver felt his feet swept from under him as an animalistic growl engulfed his ears. He was thrust backwards and the arrow buried itself deep in Merlyn’s chest. The Dark Archer summoning the last of his strength to launch himself against the Arrow. Roy watched the one-sided battle through heavy eyes, seeing Merlyn being thrown back with a sturdy kick by Oliver, the bow adding force to the attack. Merlyn collapsed on the ground and didn’t get up again. Oliver stood over him, as if to watch him die. Roy gritted his teeth and reached back for an arrow, his arms screaming at the motion. He pulled out the modified weapon and pressed the button on the shaft, just like the last one. He had no strength to fit it on the bow, just flung it at Oliver’s feet.

The Arrow gazed down at the bulbous arrowhead, frowning before rolling out of the way. Too late. A massive cloud of violent green smoke erupted from the arrowhead and Oliver was forced to move away, the cloud surrounding Roy and Merlyn, making them impossible to see. His eyes burned as he tried to force his way through, making him turn back as the leather of his armour corroded at the toxin’s touch. He glared at the rapidly disappearing shape of Roy before pulling back, forcing himself to move away, to follow the bloody trail Lance had left as he tried to escape the fighting.

 

Roy groaned in pain as he pulled the arrow out, stuffing the wound with cloth and the herbs he had found in one of the innumerable pockets of the League armour. The smoke lingered in the air, just out of reach, surrounding them entirely. His sight cleared somewhat and he crawled across to where Merlyn lay, his chest rising and falling unevenly, breaths flecked with blood as it dribbled from his mouth. Roy reached for the arrows but Merlyn shook his head slightly.

‘No…Leave it, too late now…’ His voice was breathless and Roy looked on helplessly.

Merlyn looks up at him, reaches down with one hand, scratching feebly at his swaths of cloth until he grasped the object he sought and pulled it with the last vestiges of his strength. Roy let him place it in his hand and clutched tight, even as he looked back at Merlyn’s face, the light fading from his eyes, his grip iron hard, his voice wet and raspy as blood runs down his chin in an unending torrent. 

‘Don’t blame…it was my choice.’ He pulled his face into a faint, final smile. ‘Be brave…my son…’ 

A last raspy gurgle and Roy felt the man go limp in his arms, his final words drawing tears from his eyes, a shadowy memory of his mother’s death, words ever so familiar. Except this time they had worth, meaning, value.

 

Oliver found Lance a short way off, sitting up and fumbling with his phone, the screen proving unresponsive in his blood slicked hands. He stopped when he saw the Arrow approach, reaching for his fallen gun, but Oliver held up a hand.

‘I’m not here to fight you, I’m here to save you.’ Oliver growled at him.

‘Uh…’ 

Lance stared at him, flinching as Oliver knelt beside him to inspect the wound. He frowned before snapping the shaft of the arrow. ‘Hmm, wooden.’

‘Argh! Son of a-‘ Lance cried out as pain spread like fire through his shoulder. ‘Wait. What-‘

Oliver didn’t give him time to finish the sentence before he forced up the protesting cop and half marched, half helped him towards Verdant. It was slow going.

Lance ground his teeth together as they moved out of the industrial district; the pain was way worse than getting shot with a bullet. He glanced at the archer, noticing his blood covered gloves, the small sharp shards sticking out from his chest, streams of blood running down from the cuts. 

‘So, I’m guessing you took out the other two? Harper-‘

‘Shut up!’

‘Alright, alright, I’m just-‘

‘Just be quiet!’ Oliver snarled at him, unwilling to think about what had just happened, what he had just done. There’d be no coming back from this one. ‘Conserve your strength. We’re not there yet.’

Lance was silent for a while before speaking again, tone edged with curiosity. ‘Why are you doing this? Saving me, I mean.’

Oliver didn’t reply immediately. Then he said, ‘Because it doesn’t matter. Soon enough you won’t have to worry about me. I might as well save you if I can, I owe Sarah that much.’

Lance was staring at him, but Oliver just ignored him, realising how bitter he sounded. And it was true, he didn’t care about being the Arrow anymore; he’d never get Roy back after what happened. It was ironic really; after all of last year trying to keep Roy from letting his rage consume him, it was he, Oliver, who had given in. Given in to his pride, his jealousy, his anger at Roy for choosing Merlyn instead of him.

 

Oliver dropped Lance beside his car, lingering for a moment. ‘I wouldn’t ask this of you, but let me leave, and you’ll never hear from me again.’

The cop looked at him, ‘What? Why would I do that?’

‘I saved your life. Not just now, several times. A life for a life?’

‘Fuck it. Fine, fine, get outta here!’ Lance grumbled, a sour expression on his face.

The Arrow didn’t reply, just turned away and walked until the shadows swallowed him up. His mind had turned numb, thoughts swimming slowly through it. He’s done. It was bad enough he had to kill Merlyn, but fighting Roy, hurting him, almost killing him...It was too much, too far, so far he couldn’t bring it back. And leaving him bleeding in a ruined factory said it all. Oliver was ready to join Ra’s, serve his time, anything to undo those last few hours. 

How had it come to this?

 

Roy looked down at his blood covered hands and then over at Merlyn’s body, lying still now, though warm to the touch. The mist had melted away and he was left alone with Merlyn in the rusted factory lot. His stomach churned as he recalled the man’s last words, the emotion pulling at him as he remained on his knees in the dirt. Roy regretted that he hadn’t spent enough time these last few weeks, the raw agony of it cutting at him like a sharp edge. Part of him roared in anger at what Oliver had done, what his hero had become. Of what he had forced him to do. Why did he just stand aside? But then…then Merlyn would still be dead. Another part, the cooler, rational part took control, drove him upright and forced his steps straight, automatic, even as his hand remained clenched in a fist around Merlyn’s final offering: an elaborately decorated key.

His house wasn’t far and he always had a bag ready to go, it was just a question of where. His arm ached dully until he pulled out the first aid kit. He carefully cleaned and stitched up the wound, watching his fingers work deftly in the mirror’s reflection. He finished up and washed his bloodied hands and face, wincing as he grazed the cuts on his lip, his nose feeling fragile to his touch, but not broken. Roy stopped to look at himself in the mirror, eyes boring into their echo. He sighed muttering, ‘How did it unravel so quickly?’

He had no answer for himself except to grab his bag and reach for Merlyn’s key. He had seen the Dark Archer use it once before, when he had taken Roy to the safe-house. But it wasn’t where he wanted to go now. Roy wanted to leave, wanted to get out…

Roy picks up the key, swings the bag over one shoulder and walks towards the door, pausing as his eyes land on the sliver of paper with Onslaught’s co-ordinates on it. And he feels it, the tug to run away again, just like the last time, when Oliver rejected his first kiss. He was ready to go, to just disappear into the night, to slink off and leave Oliver victorious. But then he sees the bed in the mirror, their bed, sheets still crumpled from last night’s fun, and it seems a world away as he grips Merlyn’s key tight.

‘No.’ He spoke the word quietly, staring at his discarded bow, the sword still at his side. ‘I’m not going out like this. Not yet.’

 

Roy glanced around carefully, the financial district was quiet this time of night, but there were more cops around in the city because of the Arrow manhunt. He pulled out the key and inserted it into the lock, turning counter-clockwise until it clicked and then pulling it half out he turned it clockwise and the door clicked again, the lock sliding back with oiled silence. Roy pushed the door in and slid inside, hand on his sword. But it was still and he flicked the lights on; the bright white of the bulbs flickering to life around him. He walked across the marbled tile floor towards the central closet. It was here Merlyn had directed his attention the last time they were in the safe-house. Roy could recall the man’s words almost perfectly.

‘…Here. I’ve put everything you’ll ever need right here.’ Merlyn turned to him, a rare smile lighting up his features. Roy looked at him puzzled.

‘What do you mean?’

‘For when you take my place, of course!’ 

The memory faded away and the lingering humour in Merlyn’s voice stayed with Roy as he again looked at the wood panelled closet. He had thought the Dark Archer was joking. He reach out and pulled the doors back. Rows upon rows of arrows was the first thing he saw, and then the swords, all arrayed perfectly. Then his eye was drawn to the center display; a display case not unlike the ones Oliver used. He stared at the armour inside: a steel grey variant of Merlyn’s own League armour, stripes of a muted red flowed through it, under the sleeves and across the chest where it would be tied together. Roy reached out and felt the heavy fabric, the clink of chain mail underneath, connecting the arms and legs to the Kevlar body armour covering the chest under the grey cloth exterior.

Roy licked his lips nervously before untying the laces that bound his own armour to his body, shrugging off the tight fitting leather until he was standing in front of the case in nothing but his briefs. He reached for the first pieces, finding it strangely intuitive to put on. Before long he had finished, each portion fitting him perfectly. He quickly tied the ends of the kimono together and glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked strange, different, but not in a bad way. There was a mask too, a swirl of cloth and toughened leather that he pulled on, his face totally obscured, only the glint of his eyes could be seen through the slit. Roy stuffed his bag with his Arsenal armour before refilling his quiver and attaching it to his back. He reached for his bow, pausing as he remembered the day Oliver had given it to him; muttering and awkward until Roy looked at him in gratitude… Those had been good times. The warrior sighed and strapped the bow on beside the quiver. His sword was the last to be fastened, and he rested his hand on the pommel in what had become a familiar action. Roy glanced at his reflection in the mirror; heavily armed and armoured, but he hoped he wouldn’t need it.

 

Oliver was on his hands and knees among the shattered glass. The ruined wreckage of the Arrowcave was all around him; the police having been none too gentle with his property. He wasn’t surprised really, the Arrow had caused a lot of police injuries over the years, not to mention a few deaths. Lance had ordered the search even as he pursued the Arrow into the abandoned factories.

The Arrow rested on his haunches as Felicity righted the fallen chairs and Diggle searched fruitlessly for extra ammo. He hadn’t said anything after he had returned and from the look in Oliver’s eyes, they both knew better than to ask. So they had busied themselves in an attempt to ignore what was really going on. But after a while Oliver began to speak, hesitantly at first, and not directed at them, but at a point somewhere in the distance. He muttered and mumbled over the bits he didn’t want to relive, at least until he came to the end. Then he spoke clearly, if in dribs and drabs, telling the room (and Felicity and Diggle) what he had done; killing Merlyn, saving Lance, but fighting Roy, shooting him, leaving him there. After everything that had happened, just leaving him there…

The two of them looked at each other, each unsure what, if anything, they could say. Oliver was staring at the floor when the crush of glass reached his ears. He glanced up as a figure in grey armour approached them. He had come in from the lower door, the one hidden behind the club. Oliver stared for a moment before wetting his lips, ‘Roy?’ Hope edged his voice as the figure just stood and watched him. The he reached up a gloved hand and pulled off the helmet revealing his bruised and cut face. But it was the eyes that captured Oliver’s attention. ‘Roy, I…’

There was a quirk of a brow and then it was gone. When he spoke it was in a level, measured tone. ‘Oliver. Malcolm…huh, Merlyn is dead. He left me this, you know. Left me his title too, if I wanted to claim it.’

‘Will you?’

‘Perhaps.’ He paused, fingers tapping his sword, ‘Will you let me?’

‘Roy, I…I don’t know what to say.’ That was a lie, he knew what to say, had been screaming it in the silence of his mind for these last few minutes. But now, seeing Roy Harper standing there in his oh so fine robe and armour, all put together, Oliver resisted. He forced himself upright, unwilling to be kneeling before his former sidekick. ‘Are you here for something?’

Roy rolled his head back in surprise, ‘Still arrogant, Arrow?’ He spat, his composure slipping before he slammed it back into place. ‘I know what you’re thinking Oliver, but the League is not the answer.’

‘Like you would know!’ Oliver moved towards him, ‘You’ve had Merlyn whispering into your ear for months. I should’ve stopped it sooner!’

Roy’s eyes went hard, ‘You just did. That’s close enough.’

Oliver stopped as Felicity and Diggle watched their exchange. ‘I’ve made a promise Roy, and there’s nothing for me here. Not after....’ He gestured around at the broken room.

Roy frowned at him, Merlyn’s words from earlier coming back to haunt him; ‘Oliver must **not** become the next Ra’s al Ghul!’ He pulled out his sword in one fluid movement and Oliver took a step back.

‘Roy?’

‘You’re not the only one who made a promise Oliver. Take up your sword!’ Roy raised the blade to his face, moving into the position naturally. Oliver stared at him warily, the last time he and Roy had sparred, the red archer had defeated him with disturbing ease. Oliver looked him in the eye, seeing only steely determination. He glanced around the room, spotting a sword to his right. Roy saw it too and waited for Oliver to pick it up.

But he didn’t. ‘No. Not this time.’

Roy stared at him, as though he expected a trick or sudden attack. When it failed to come his eyes widened slightly. ‘Fine. I thought you wanted to end this. But I'm not going to fight a broken man. I can see you’re done.’

And Roy could see it. It was in the man’s movements, the way he just knelt back down again; the archer had given up; letting Roy chose: live or die. Arsenal lowered his weapon and walked over to Oliver, standing in front of him. He shook his head, almost to himself and sighed again. Roy sheathed his sword and extended his hand to Oliver, waiting until the Arrow looked at him, their actions from earlier mirroring each other as Oliver was the one who shook a silent, resolute ‘No.’ But Roy Harper doesn’t give up so easily, instead pulling the Arrow back onto his feet.

They stood there, hands grasping forearms as they stared at each other. Standing there in the room with the shattered glass until at last one of them broke contact and moved away. The other waited, watching his retreating back with a sense of almost unbearable loss. It was over.

 

Epilogue

It was an unspoken agreement; Roy knew he was leaving. Not even Merlyn’s desire for him to become Oliver’s counterweight could keep him here. The city had taken too much from him, too many people, too much loss for him to try again. Maybe someday, someday he would return and take up the guardianship Oliver had clearly forsaken. Even now he could see that Oliver had accepted the Demonhead’s offer. Oh he might not be wearing League blacks yet, but even Felicity and Diggle could see it in the archer’s slumped shoulders and defeated gaze. 

It was done, finished; Ra’s had won. And the worst part was that it was he, Oliver, who had let him. Let him break apart the best thing that had ever happened to him, no one else had loved him with the same burning passion that Roy did, no one else was willing to give up everything, sacrifice anyone to save him but Roy. And for that brief perfect moment forever crystallised in time, he had held the smiling happy man in his arms and known true love.

 

Roy looks back at them all from his rear view mirror, standing there as he drives off into dawn’s first rays. That last goodbye had been stiff and formal and despite everything that had happened, every glorious moment and every terrible hardship, every day he had spent loving Oliver, the man hadn’t said it. Stay. One little word and he might have considered it. Oliver said too much had happened, too much blood spilled and too many secrets kept, too much for them to ever move beyond that moment. That moment when they had taken up arms against each other, when he had failed.

That stiff, formal handshake. No effort made to even attempt a hug, not like when his hero had gone off to fight Ra’s the first time. And as he drove off into the new day, Roy finally let the mask down, not looking in the mirror anymore lest his reflection show the tears streaming silently down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends the story of Roy and Oliver. For now…
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed some if not all of this super slow build! I certainly enjoyed writing it.


End file.
